


The Heir

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Everything is consensual, Happy Ending, M/M, Magic, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Peter is not spiderman, Pregnancy, Sad Peter Parker, Starker, Stephen Strange is a Good Bro, Tony is Ironman, Tony's penis in Peter's magic vagina, all things involving guy on guy sex, baby related things - breastfeeding, baby spitting up on everyone and everything, babymaking for money so breeding?, lactate kink?, magic vagina, natural conception, not abo, poopy diapers, post-partum depression, pregnancy related discussions, some painful sex not on purpose, there will be angst and pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 75,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28563816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Tony Stark wants a child, but he doesn't want any strings attached to the baby momma when everything is said and done, and Stephen Strange suggests something crazy to make it less likely. The idea grows on Tony until he decides to give it a shot and he puts out an online ad...
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 449
Kudos: 748





	1. Chapter 1

Peter Parker nodded a slightly nervous thank you to the woman who had ushered him into the office, and then looked around the room as she left, closing the door behind her. It was a fairly sparse room, really. The building it was in was occupied on the bottom floor by a bakery, which made this office smell incredible, but since it was only three floors, the little window didn’t afford much of a view, and the desk was small and made of cheap wood, while the two chairs were straight-backed wooden monstrosities that made the place look like it was straight from a prop room on some detective show set.

There was a small basket of fruit, candies, and snacks on the desk and a bottle of expensive water with a glass and a container with ice cubes, but Peter ignored it all, wiping his hands on his pants as he sat down on one of the chairs. There was also a small folder that had his name on it in bold letters, and when Peter opened it, there was a simple form, and a place on the bottom for his signature. He read it, again, and then signed his name before closing the folder, again, and sitting back. His hand brushed against a piece of paper in the pocket of his jeans, but Peter didn’t need to pull it out to see what it was. He’d printed the ad the moment he’d seen it, and had read it so many times that he had it memorized.

_Seeking a male between the ages of 18 – 24 for a project that will require a 12-month commitment. Successful candidates will be healthy, intelligent, able to work alone and without direction for long periods of time. Annoying people need not apply._

Peter had applied. He was carrying a full caseload at school, of course, but depending on what the job was, he would see if it was something that he could work around his classes, and besides, he could use the money. The initial application had been online, and involved what had seemed to be a million unrelated questions that had all required an answer before allowing it to be submitted. Some were about personal preferences, favorite foods, favorite actors or actresses, favorite kind of music, describe the best date night. Others were about history; parents, siblings, previous work experience (if any), very first pet, and what was its name. There were some math questions. Peter went through that section easily, but math had always been easy for him. There were some science questions, and he had no problem with those, either. The English ones were a little trickier – and they were complicated, but Peter answered them as well as he could without using the internet – as the instructions had stated at the top of the questionnaire.

He’d submitted the thing, and then assumed that he must have failed to impress, because he hadn’t heard anything back for a week. Then an email had popped into his box, sent late at night, and he’d found another questionnaire. This one was even more specific – and a lot more personal. There wasn’t any explanation included, just another long list of questions. Some were designed as almost essays, although it was more like: Have you ever wanted children? Why? Or Why not? What would you do with $20? What about $100? What about $1000? There were a lot of questions about how Peter spent his downtime, and who he spent it with.

That wasn’t really a problem, since he didn’t have any family, and had very few friends. He spent a lot of time watching movies, playing some videogames when he had time, and studying.

Again, he completed the questionnaire, sent it in and this time he was a little more hopeful, so it was a bit of a disappointment that he didn’t hear anything back for several more days. When he finally did – and again, it was an email that had been sent to his inbox after midnight – Peter found another questionnaire. It wasn’t very many questions, but he’d scowled, this time, getting a bit tired of the mystery and tired of sharing so much of his own likes and dislikes without even knowing who was on the other end of things. When he took a quick look through the questions, he was annoyed to find that some were very personal, indeed. Cut or uncut? Gay or straight? Boxers or briefs? Virgin? If not, describe the first time?

Peter had rolled his eyes at the obvious attempt someone was making to get some jerk material, and he’d simply deleted the email without answering any of the questions, deciding that he was finished with that particular job application.

The next morning, there had been a new email. This one was an invitation to come in for a face-to-face meeting, and a virtual copy of the nondisclosure agreement that he would be expected to sign before any discussion was made at that meeting. Nothing more than an address and a date and time with two boxes, one that said _yes_ , and one that said _no_ , waiting for one to be checked. If it had been someplace out in the middle of nowhere, Peter would have deleted that email, as well. It wasn’t, though. It was in Queens, and not even too far from his little apartment. It was also on a day that he didn’t have any classes, and a time that was as convenient for him as he could have asked. He’d checked the _yes_ button, and had sent the reply.

And now, here he was.

Was he nervous? Yes. He wasn’t that experienced with interviewing in the first place, and Ned’s advice to just look the person in the eye and be himself wasn’t really that great of an idea, since Peter was well aware that he wasn’t that interesting a person, to be frank. Ned had offered to help him, to play the part of the interviewer and throw questions at him, one at a time, but Peter had been forced to admit that he didn’t even know what the job was – so there was no way to prepare for the questions. Ned had rolled his eyes at his friend, and returned to the video game that they’d been playing, and Peter had been distracted enough that he’d lost, spectacularly.

Before he could allow himself to get too tightly wound up, the door opened, and Peter turned to look over his shoulder. And then blinked a couple of times before staring. Tony Stark himself was walking into the room and closing the door behind him. Tony freaking Stark! There was no way it was someone else who just happened to look a lot like him. Everyone knew what Stark looked like, and Peter wasn’t an exception. He froze, unable to get to his feet to shake hands, like Ned had suggested.

“Mr. Parker…” Stark said, looking pleased at the response his presence had on Peter. Or maybe smug? Or both? “How are you, today?”

“I’m good… um… Mr. Stark. Hello. How are you?”

The billionaire didn’t even look in the closed folder to see if the paper had been signed.

“Doing well. I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on. Why all the secrecy? And why the cloak and dagger?”

“Yeah. I mean, a little. Yeah. _Yes_.”

Stark smiled.

“I need an heir,” he said, sitting down in the other chair, now across from Peter, and folding his hands on the table in front of him.

“Like in Willy Wonka?” Peter asked.

“What?”

“You’re looking for someone to give your company to?”

The older man frowned.

“I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about.”

“It’s a movie,” Peter explained. “And a book. Well, _two_ movies and a book, I think. One was really old, and one is newer, but it’s about this chocolatier who doesn’t have any kids, and he wants to find one, so he sends out candy bars with golden tickets, and… and these five kids find them, get a tour of the factory, and the last one standing got the factory.”

“No. That isn’t, exactly, what I have in mind. I want a _biological_ heir. A child of my own loins to take over my company when I’m ready to retire.”

“Oh. Why am I here, then?”

Stark leaned forward.

“Because I want _you_ to have that child with me.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to frown.

“I’m a _guy_.”

“I know.”

“Are you _drunk_?”


	2. 2

Stark smiled, and Peter decided he was even better looking when he did.

“Of course not,” the billionaire assured him. “I never drink when I’m negotiating.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Peter asked, still confused.

“We _are_.” The older man reached for the pen that Peter had used to sign the paper. “What if I told you that I knew a way to have you… outfitted with the appropriate… _embellishments_ needed to conceive and carry a baby?”

“I’d ask if you were drinking, again…”

Luckily the man was more amused than annoyed at the disbelief.

“And I’d respond with the same no as before. I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a way it could happen. All you’d need to do is agree, and pass a very thorough physical, and then commit to be hidden away for the time that it took to conceive the baby, carry the baby to term, have the baby and then make sure it has a good start on life.”

Peter frowned.

“You’re not hideous,” he pointed out. “You could just go find a woman to take care of that. Probably a million of them.”

“True.” There was no conceit in that single word, but being told you’re not hideous was far from being told you’re attractive, after all. “But then I would have to worry about dealing with that woman for pretty much the rest of my life, right? Even with a contract, she could come back and decide she wants to sue for custody, or drag me through the courts for years. Not to mention, if she ended up having other children, later on, my child would have half-siblings, and they might have a potential claim on my empire. I don’t want that. If I use _you_ for the service, I’m pretty much guaranteed that no one would ever believe that you’re the mother to my baby – and as a homosexual male, you’re not as likely to sire another child, so I don’t have to worry about half siblings.”

“What if I demanded they do a DNA test?”

“On what grounds?” Stark asked, smiling. “You were ‘magically’ turned into a woman to conceive my baby for me and then ‘magically’ turned back when the deed was done? Now who would be getting asked if they were drinking?”

The boy frowned, again, and then shrugged.

“Good point.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think it’s crazy.”

“I’m not hearing a no.”

“Because it’s too crazy to believe, much less say yes _or_ no. I don’t want to be turned into a woman, though… so I guess that would be a hard no for me…”

“Well, the process wouldn’t, exactly, turn you into a woman. You’d keep the equipment that you have, right now. It’s more of a hermaphrodite type of thing, where you’d also get the parts needed to get pregnant.”

“Why would anyone agree to that?”

“Because I’ll pay you a million dollars – to _start_ – with bonuses added in, _and_ will provide all the medical, all the room and board while you’re working for me. And, since you’re a _student_ , I’ll pay off your student loans and pay for the rest of your education, as well.”

“Oh.” Peter was stunned, and stared, uncertainly. “That’s a _lot_.”

“That’s just the start,” Stark said. “It’s a huge commitment, after all – and there will be some hardship on your part.”

“Sleeping with you?”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, but he smiled at the cheek.

“No, that’s a _benefit_. But… you’d be pregnant, remember, and I do _not_ want anyone other than those who absolutely _have_ to know to know anything about this. That means that the contract will require you to be sequestered on my estate for the duration. No friends or family over, no outings to go see them – or see anything else, really, no video chats, no real forms of contact with family and friends for a full year.”

“Oh.” That was a definite negative, now, wasn’t it? Of course… “I don’t have any family…”

“I know.”

Of course, he did. The questionnaires had held a bunch of questions about family – and now Peter knew why.

“Right…”

Stark gave him a moment to think about it, sitting quietly and watching him.

“It wouldn’t all be bad, though,” he said. “You’d be in a really nice house, with expansive grounds. Swimming pool – indoor and out – walking trails, plenty to do and we could bring in anything that you might think of to make the time go by.”

“Where is it?”

“Outside of the city. About an hour from here.”

“Oh.”

“Want to go take a look?”

“No. Yes.”

The man smiled, as if he completely understood. His brown eyes were watching Peter, intently.

“Why don’t we go take a look?” he suggested. “And on the way you can ask me any questions that you have.”

“It’s only an hour,” Peter said. “I have a million questions.”

“Then as many as I can answer in the time we have.”

“Alright.”

Both of them stood up and Tony led the way out of the door.

><><><><><><

The car was amazing. Sleek, sporty, and fast, and Tony Stark drove it expertly through the busy streets of downtown like he did it every day.

“So how can this friend of yours turn me into a hermaphrodite?” Peter asked. “Tech?”

“No. It’s magic.”

Peter tossed him a skeptical look.

“ _Magic_?”

“Yup.” Stark shifted. “And before you say there isn’t any such thing as magic, I’ll remind you that a lot of people would have said there’s no such thing as aliens, or flying turtles, or gods from other planets that can call down thunder.”

“True…” Peter was quiet for a minute, thinking that through. “So what does it do?”

“Adds the womanly parts, is all I know. He’d explain it to you, fully, once we knew if you were onboard.”

“So, I’d have a vagina?”

“Yes.”

“Weird.”

“We wouldn’t expect you to try a vaginal delivery, though. Stephen already pointed out that it’d be ridiculous to attempt that – and it might be dangerous for you and the baby. Men aren’t made for that, he said.”

“C-Section, then?”

“Yeah.” The billionaire looked over at him. “You could say it’s an appendix scar, or something – depending where it is and how big.”

“There goes my swimsuit body…”

Stark smiled at that.

“True.”

“Who is this guy?”

“I’ll leave that question for a different time. He’s a magician, though – and a real life brain surgeon, too – so he’s a doctor and not some whacko off the street.”

“That’s good.”

“Will it hurt?” Peter asked. “The change, I mean.”

“He said it wouldn’t. There’s no actual _surgery_ involved. I suppose being pregnant won’t be fun, but women do it all the time, so you’ll be in good company.”

There were plenty more questions about what it entailed, and Peter wasn’t shy about asking them. Stark knew what he was talking about, even if it was the craziest thing Peter had ever heard of, and answered all of them honestly.

“So…” Peter asked, as the car pulled up to a gated driveway. “I get the vagina and then you fill up a turkey baster…?”

The older man actually laughed at that one, as if he understood that Peter was just clarifying some things.

“Nope. There would definitely be some happy, fun, time involved between the two of us – and a _lot_ of it, to make sure things take on the first attempt. Otherwise, you’re hanging out here another month before we can try again.”

“Oh.”

“Which is why both of us will be getting tested, and then will adhere to the mutual contract that says neither of us are going to have sex with someone else – including oral, anal, or anything else that may potentially infect the other.”

“That makes sense.”

Good sense, really, Peter thought, as the car finished the drive up a windy, isolated driveway and ended up stopping in front of an incredible house. Not really a mansion, probably, but huge, and imposing, and impressive.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Stark said, turning off the engine. “I’m incredible in bed. I guarantee you’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

The boy rolled his eyes, amused, but he definitely felt a twitch coming from somewhere below his belt. Tony Stark was a sexy man, after all, and Peter was attracted to him. He was relieved, though, to change the subject, opening the door and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Show me around?”

“Of course.”


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate the positive comments! I was hesitant about this idea, hoping that it wouldn't be universally hated. There really is a lot of story to tell in this one, so it could get long and I worry interest fades and I don't want that to happen Thanks!

The door opened without more than a simple touch Peter saw. Stark didn’t use a key, or anything to unlock it.

“You keep your expensive house unlocked?”

“Unlocked,” Stark agreed, ushering Peter inside. “But highly secured. Right, FRIDAY?”

“Correct.”

The voice startled Peter and he looked around. All he saw was a foyer that was spacious and elegant that led into a huge wide open space that could have fit Peter’s entire apartment inside it with plenty of room to spare the guy above him, too. There was a huge fireplace with a TV above it, and a large leather sofa in the perfect position to enjoy the fire or the TV. A couple of well padded and artfully covered chairs flanked the sofa, and there was a glass topped coffee table in front of it which held a bowl of fruit. Peter wondered if they were plastic as Stark closed the door behind him.

“Who was that?”

“That’s FRIDAY. Fully interactive quantum AI. She’s in my suits, in my offices, and in all of my residences. She’s also in charge of security – and would be in charge of making sure that you have anything that you could ever need while you’re here.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that was going to be your job?”

The billionaire smiled.

“I intend for it to be, but I can’t be here all day, every day. FRIDAY can. She’ll be monitoring things, too; making sure that you’re getting enough rest, keeping track of your health as things progress, and making sure that we’re both keeping our end of the contract.”

Peter wasn’t dumb.

“So she’s the prison guard?”

“It isn’t a _prison_ ,” Stark reminded him. “Or, it isn’t one that you’ll be at without agreeing fully. I’m not going to kidnap and keep you here like a princess, after all. But, yes, she’ll be responsible for making sure you don’t go stir crazy some night and decide to go for a walk down to the nearest 7-11 to get a Slurpee – and she’ll make sure that if I even look at another person funny, I’ll get zapped.”

“She can do that?”

“Not normally,” the older man replied. “But right now she’s going to have permission to do just that. I’m going to quit drinking, so I can’t use that as an excuse to be stupid, and I’m going to avoid putting myself into any situation that might find me tempted to partake in a one-night stand or a quickie in the closet.”

“Wow.”

“This project is very important to me, Peter,” the billionaire told him. “I want it to succeed, and I’m not going to allow me to be the reason for failure.”

“Huh. I can tell…”

He didn’t know the other man – beyond what he’d read on the web, or see on the news when he watched it, but it was obvious that there were going to be big changes in store for Stark. Self imposed ones, even, which made it more impressive.

“Besides,” he said, gesturing for Peter to follow him. “If I’m going to settle down enough to raise a kid, I’d better get started before he or she gets here, now shouldn’t I?”

“Do you have a preference?” Peter asked as he looked around the immense kitchen, taking in all of the space, the counters and the huge fridge and freezer. “Boy or girl?”

“Sometimes I think I’d like a son,” was the reply, as Stark pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and offered it to Peter. “Someone to carry on my name, and to give manly advice to when the time came. Other times, I think that a little girl would be amazing. Someone who I could watch grow up into a strong, brilliant young woman – and also get the incredible joy of threatening any prospective boyfriends with a photon blaster.”

Peter laughed at that, and allowed the billionaire to show him through the grounds outside the back porch area, first – this held a pool, a bathhouse, a tennis court that also could be a basketball court, with the touch of a simple button that lowered the nets and brought a basketball hoop up from underground, a few paths that led off into the trees, and Peter saw that they were high enough up that there was in incredible view.

The inside was just as nice. There were several bedrooms, each with a different theme, and all furnished elegantly. Each room had its own bathroom. There was a game room with pinball machines, videogames, darts, and air hockey, an indoor theater that could seat twenty in plush leather recliners, an indoor pool, a gym, a racquetball court, and a quiet, brown themed room with a big desk, a wall of books that were leather bound and beautiful, and another fireplace.

“This is nice,” Peter said, looking around.

“Thank you. I have an apartment in the city, but while you’re here, I’ll be making the trip to and from to make sure that you aren’t stuck out here, by yourself.”

“That’s nice, too.”

Stark smiled.

“I try.” He led the boy out of the den and along a final hall. “This leads to my bedroom, but aside from that, you’ve pretty much seen everything that there is to see. We’ll make additions in anything you want – to make it more comfortable for you – and the place is completely wired in, of course. FRIDAY will make sure you have complete access to the web, to whatever movies, video games, and anything else you can think of – even online shopping if you wake up in the middle of the night and think that you need a toilet night light.”

“Is there such a thing?” Peter asked, walking down the hallway and opening the bedroom door to look inside.

There was a huge bed, a walk in closet, and a treadmill.

“There _is_ ,” he was assured. “I’ll get you one for your bedroom. And a cake of the month subscription.”

Peter smiled at that.

“Sounds good.”

“Does that mean you’re thinking about it?” Stark asked.

“I’m not saying no,” the boy said. “Let me see your penis.”

There wasn't much that could freeze Tony Stark, but that did the trick.

“What?”

“Your penis,” Peter repeated. “Or whatever you want to call it. Your cock? Your dong? Your schwartz? Little Tony?”

The billionaire frowned.

“Why do you want to see it?”

“Because I refuse to have sex with anyone who has an ugly penis,” Peter explained. “The whole thing is crazy, but if you're willing to pay so much, and work so hard at it, then I’m willing to give it a go. Unless you have an ugly penis. Then the deal is off.”

Stark shrugged, and then unbuttoned his jeans, lowering the zipper and then pulling his jeans and underwear down. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and held his arms to the sides, looking at Peter.

“Well?”

Peter cocked his head.

“Get hard.”

“What?”

“Right now it really isn’t much to look at, is it?” he said, almost defensively. “I mean, don’t get me wrong; it’s decent shaped, and looks nice. Your balls are good, and the manscaping is perfect, really, but I need to see more.”

“Are you being a shit?”

“No. Do _you_ like having sex with ugly dicks?”

“I’ve never considered it, before.”

The boy shrugged.

“It’s a turn off of mine.”

“Jesus.”

The older man rolled his eyes and slid his hand to his flaccid penis, his fingers curling around it as he gave it a couple of tugs, trying to think of something sexy that would get him hard. Nothing came to mind. He muttered a soft complaint, and started stroking himself, lightly.

“That’s the best you can do?” Peter asked, watching him.

“It’s not going to get hard with you watching it and being all _judgy_ ,” Stark complained, scowling. “You need to help me out.”

Peter reached out and slid his fingers along the shaft, pushing the billionaire’s hand aside and taking hold, himself. The younger man’s hand was warm, but the fingers were strong, and they all moved along his cock, lightly, caressing.

“Once you’re hard I’ll be able to see if you’re thick enough to fill me just right,” the boy said, softly, now stroking Tony with a little more force as the man groaned at the visualization that followed the words. “I love a good, _long_ , cock, too,” he added, his thumb playing with the head and then his hand sliding down to cup the other man’s testicles, weighing them in his hand and rolling them on his fingers before moving his attention back to the now thickening cock that was filling his hand much better than it had. “We’ll see how deep you can get into me,” Peter crooned, watching as Stark leaned back onto the bed, a little, also watching Peter play with him.

“Suck me, Peter,” the older man whispered, hoarsely.

“Not without a test,” came the reply, as precum was smeared along the now glistening head. “I don’t know where it’s been, after all, and we can’t risk me catching something and maybe passing it onto the baby, right?”

“Fuuuuuuck…”

Stark closed his eyes, and Peter went to work on him almost ruthlessly, stroking him one moment, caressing him, the next. He spoke dirty to him, pointing out that a thick head like this one was only going to make him feel that much more stuffed as he was being held down on the bed and was being driven into the bedding with every thrust. His hips were moving in time to the motions, and his breathing was coming faster.

“That’s beautiful,” Peter murmured, his hand stilling in mid stroke.

The billionaire opened his eyes, and looked down, seeing Peter sliding his palm against his now fully aroused cock, tracing the veins with a fingertip. He was ramrod stiff, now, and aching for release.

“So you’re in?” Stark asked.

“As long as the contracts are fair for both of us, yes. I’ll want to see what they look like and maybe do some negotiating.”

“That’s fine. Not right now, though.”

He didn’t negotiate when someone else was holding his penis, either.

“No.”

“Finish me, Peter. Please?”

“Of course.”

Stark groaned and closed his eyes when the boy’s hand wrapped around him, again, and he sighed with pleasure as he felt his balls being played with, but he forced his attention away from the contract that he was already trying to write up in his mind. There was plenty of time for that, later.

He definitely had other things to focus on, just then.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> contract talk and all of the details so I don't have to bring them up, later - no promises that this chapter will be exciting, but it's definitely necessary

“Are you sure you want to do this…?” Ned asked, watching as his friend finished packing the last of his clothes into a box. “A year is a long time.”

Peter nodded.

“I know. But, yeah. It’s a good opportunity, really.”

“True.”

Ned and MJ had been told that Peter had signed on for a research study. A real life version of one of those ‘could you live in this beautiful place alone for a year for a million dollars?’ things that were always popping up on the internet. MJ had looked a bit skeptical, but Ned had been excited and had asked if there were any more spots open. It had explained the questionnaires that Peter had told his friends about, and had explained why they weren’t going to see him for the next year – at least. He’d still be able to be online, he’d told them, but he couldn’t do voice chat, or social media, or anything that was interactive. It was all part of the study.

Peter had passed every physical that he’d been given – and there had been several. He was sure that the doctors didn’t have a clue what he was signing up for as they poked and prodded him, checking every aspect of his well being and then signing off on his paperwork and sending it up to whomever had ordered it done. He met up with Tony, who had been given several of his own tests, and the older man had definitely had an interesting gleam in his eyes when he showed Peter the clear results of all of his STD tests.

Peter had then been introduced to Dr. Stephen Strange. The man was tall, slim, and a little intimidating – or maybe just intense? They’d met at Tony’s apartment, and Strange had studied Peter, carefully, while asking him about himself, and his history. Then it had been Peter’s turn to ask him a few things, as Strange pulled up a power point, of all things, that had obviously been carefully prepared – and would almost certainly be deleted as soon as it was done being used to explain to Peter what Strange was going to do. Tony had listened just as carefully as the doctor had pointed out that everything Peter had, now, would still be there, and would still work as normal.

“The big changes will be internally, for the most part. A womb, ovaries, fallopian tubes, cervix and a vagina.” He’d gestured to all of these as he’d mentioned them. “The opening to your vagina is going to be right under your testicles, so you’ll want to make sure to keep them clean and dry at all times to avoid any yeast infections.”

“He could shave them,” Tony suggested, only half-joking.

“That would make things easier, I imagine.” The doctor looked at Peter. “You won’t have a clitoris,” he’d added. “Your penis will be acting in that capacity, so it will most likely be extremely sensitive. Women create their own lubrication for sexual intercourse, and you shouldn’t have any issue with that, either, but I would suggest that you make sure there’s enough before anyone tries anything too intimate. If not, simply go buy some – I’m sure Tony already has a handy supply.”

“I’ll make sure we have more,” Stark had assured him.

“Don’t be too rough, either,” Strange had added. “He’s going to be sensitive, there, and the walls are going to be thin in some areas – especially at first. If you tear him, your first load of semen is going to end up in his rectum and that isn’t going to make you a baby.”

“I’ll treat him like glass.” He looked at Peter. “I _will_.”

“I’ll be available as much as I can,” Strange had said, wrapping up the discussion. “In case you have any questions. Once I enact the spell, the physical change is immediate, but I’ll give Peter a hormone shot – and then some oral supplements – to get his eggs developing, properly. This normally occurs in puberty, but it won’t hurt him that it comes late.”

“How long until he can get pregnant?” Tony had asked.

“A week for the hormones to do their job, and then whenever his body decides to release the first egg. There are changes that can be detected by simple tests. You could buy them at any pharmacy, but I expect your AI could be adapted to monitor a urine sample and detect them that way. Once the egg is released, start trying to conceive. You’ll know within a couple of weeks.”

“Thank you, Stephen.”

The doctor nodded, looking at Peter.

“Are you still willing?”

“Yes.”

“And you aren’t being coerced into this?”

Peter smiled, appreciating the question.

“No. I’m coming into it, willingly. It’s just a weird thought.”

“That it is. I’ll be interested in seeing how things turn out.”

“No published papers, or anything,” Stark had reminded him.

“No one would believe me if I tried.”

The doctor had gathered his few things, declined another cup of coffee, and had left, and Tony and Peter had started their final negotiations, right there at Stark’s apartment. FRIDAY brought up the initial contract that Tony had written up, and Peter read it, carefully, then made a few demands of his own, which had been written into the contract. Stark had a few new ideas, which were added, when Peter approved them, and there had been an interesting addition that Peter had added, last minute, and while Tony had grumbled about it, he hadn’t actually argued.

It was late in the night before they had their agreement, but both of them were satisfied.

“A million dollar sign on,” Stark had said – and it went into the display that was in front of both of them. “Five million dollar bonus when everything is completed, satisfactorily. You have no legal rights to the baby, and you agree to not come looking for him or her. Ever. I don’t want there to be any confusion.”

“Right.” Peter didn’t want to be a parent. “But if something ever happens to you before it grows up, what happens to it?”

The guy was an Avenger, after all, and things happened, even to people who weren’t superheroes.

“I’ll make sure there are provisions for that. My friend Rhodey will be its godfather, and he can take care of things.”

Peter had brought up personal boundaries. Just because Stark was providing the room and board, the boy wanted to make sure that the older man didn’t think that that meant unlimited access to his attentions.

“The only _mandatory_ sex between us is what’s required to conceive the baby,” he’d had added to the contract. “Beyond that, anything else that may – or may not – happen, is consensual.”

He was attracted to Stark – why wouldn’t he be? The guy was sexy as hell, and had a beautiful penis, as he already knew. But he wasn’t going to be a live-in whore, or something, to be used whenever Tony Stark was horny. Especially since the contract also included a section that enforced celibacy on _Tony_ for the duration – although Stark had pointed out that once Peter was pregnant, his job was finished and he could, technically, go get laid, elsewhere.

That had almost been a deal breaker for Peter, who had scowled, and pointed out that if Tony was the only entertainment that _Peter_ was going to have, and the only company that he was going to get to keep, then Peter should be the only entertainment that Tony could consider, also.

“No sex with _anyone_ ,” he stated, firmly. “Protected, or not.”

Stark had agreed.

The contract also made it Tony’s responsibility to keep Peter company. To make sure he was taken care of – especially when he was heavy with child, and presumably, unable to get around as easily as he could, now. Strange had pointed out that being a pregnant _man_ was almost certainly going to be overwhelming for Peter, and he’d need someone there for him.

There were stiff financial fines for Tony if he was rude to Peter, too, or purposely hurt his feelings, or mocked him. Peter wanted the guy to understand that he was willing to do this, but he wasn’t going to put up with any comments about being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, or something, and Tony had (surprisingly) agreed, immediately and without even trying to change the verbiage.

Peter would have the baby, remain in the altered state for two months to breastfeed the baby and allow all antigens needed to make sure he/she was healthy. Then Strange would change him back, he’d remain in the estate until the doctor decided he was healthy enough to take care of himself, and that would end the relationship.

“Are we good on this?” Tony asked, looking at Peter when they’d both read through the contract, again, making sure there were no ambiguities that might cause misunderstandings, later.

“It looks good.”

“You’re going to come out of this a rich man,” Tony said, signing his name.

“It’ll be nice to not have to worry about tuition costs,” the boy admitted, also signing off on things.

Stark smiled.

“Want to celebrate with a roll in the hay?”

“It’s late. I’m tired.”

“I could _exhaust_ you.”

“Tempting, but no.” He stood up, stretching. “Sorry, baby daddy. I’m going to go home and get some sleep, and start packing in the morning.” He was moving to the estate the day after tomorrow. “And I want to spend some time with my friends, reassuring them that I’m not out joining a cult, or something.”

Stark had leaned back in his chair, amused.

“ _Baby daddy_ , huh?”

“It’s – technically – correct. Or it _will_ be, anyway. Do you _like_ being called daddy?”

“I think that’s a discussion that we can have the day you move into my house,” Tony told him, standing up, too. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“I’ll get an UBER.”

“FRIDAY? Order Peter an UBER home, please. Have them meet him downstairs.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you.”

Tony nodded.

“Just getting into the proper mindset to start looking out for you.”

He walked Peter to the door, and brushed a very gentle kiss against the boy’s ear as he opened it.

“I’ll see you in two days, but call if you need anything.”

“I will.”


	5. 5

It didn’t take much to move Peter into Tony’s house – and his new room.

He didn’t need any furniture since the place already came furnished – although Tony had ordered the boy a new bed, because Peter had mentioned he’d never tried one of the ones that raised up at the foot or the bottom, before, and had asked Tony if that was what he had. Stark just used a lot of pillows, so he didn’t actually need a self raising bed. Peter had a fair amount of clothing, but it was mostly underwear, socks, jeans and t-shirts, and a couple of sweatshirts, a rain jacket and two pairs of shoes. They were all put into the dresser, or the walk in closet, and the few books and other things went on a shelf, while his laptop went on the desk.

Tony leaned against the doorframe, watching as Peter settled in, and then smiled when he discovered the bed was new and had a remote control.

“Do you like it?” the billionaire asked.

“Yeah.” Peter smiled at him. “Thanks. That was nice.”

“You’re welcome. I’m going to go start dinner, so go ahead and make yourself at home, and I’ll have FRIDAY send you a heads up when dinner’s ready.”

“Alright.”

Tony stayed where he was long enough to watched Peter settle himself on the bed and grab the remote, smiling while it raised his feet, then the older man left, going back to the kitchen to get something done. Plenty of time to watch Peter, later, after all.

><><><><><

“You don’t normally cook like this, do you?”

Tony looked at their plates, which had lamb chops, asparagus spears, and potatoes.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m going to get fat if I eat like this every day.”

The billionaire smiled.

“If I do my job, right, you’re going to get fat, anyway.” He took a bite of his dinner. “There’s a gym and a pool,” he reminded the boy. “You’ll be fine. But to answer you’re question, no. Usually I eat out, really, and save cooking like this for special occasions. Tonight qualifies.”

That made Peter feel good.

“I can cook, too, you know. We could do the whole domestic scene, really, and if FRIDAY tells me when you leave from work, I could have dinner going and maybe even done by the time you get home.”

“That would be nice. But not later, though, when you might not be feeling up to it.”

Peter shrugged.

“We’ll see. Just don’t call me the little woman, or wifey, or something.”

“I’d never do that, Peter.”

Of course, now – according to the contract that he had agreed to and signed – if he did, he would have to pony up 50K to add to Peter’s bank account. It wasn’t a huge sum to Tony, but it would add up, and would be annoying. Besides, he was going to do everything right, if he could, and keep his normally self destructive tendencies out of this thing, entirely.

“Tell me something about you, Tony,” Peter said, breaking into the billionaire’s thoughts. “Something that I can’t read on the web.”

“Not a huge fan of monkeys.”

Peter frowned. It wasn’t an answer that he’d expected.

“ _All_ monkeys?”

“The annoying ones that make the loud sounds.”

“Oh.”

“Now, you. What didn’t you already tell me about yourself when you answered all of my questions?”

“I was in a movie, once, when I was a little kid.”

“Seriously?”

Peter nodded.

“Just one of the extras in the background at a restaurant. I was eating a peanut butter sandwich.”

“I’ll bet you were adorable.”

“Messy would be a better word for it.”

They took turns as they worked their way through the meal, telling the other some less than interesting facts about themselves. Nothing too exciting, but a good way to break the ice with a new roommate. When they were done eating, they worked together to clean the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Come sit with me,” Tony requested, taking Peter’s hand and leading him into the living room when Peter didn’t pull away. “Let’s talk.”

He sat down on the sofa, and pulled Peter down beside him.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?”

“That was dinner conversation,” Stark said. “This is after dinner conversation.”

“Ah.”

The younger man waited, and Tony didn’t make him wait long.

“I want to have sex with you.”

“You’re going to. We’ve established that.”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“I mean, I want to have sex with you, _tonight_.”

“That’s what I meant, too.”

The billionaire stared at him, and then smiled and shrugged when he realized what Peter was saying in not so many words.

“Excellent. So… in order to keep from having to pay out a ridiculous amount of money, tonight, by doing something that you don’t like, I’m going to ask you now. Aside from pretty cocks, what are your kinks, and what do I steer clear of?”

“Don’t slap me around. No humiliation. I’m not a huge fan of rough sex, but I’ve never actually had anyone do it to me, so I have to admit that I’m just going by what I’ve seen in porn. I enjoy role play, though – doctor/patient, teacher/student, things like that, and I’m definitely inclined to voyeurism of all kinds.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Porn – obviously –, watching another guy shower, get dressed, stroke himself… those are all turn ons for me.”

“Especially if there is a pretty cock involved…”

“Correct.” Peter smiled. “You?”

“Turn offs? Piss play, and age play. I love a twink, but I don’t want to put a diaper on him or give him a pacifier – if he wants something to suck on, I already have that. I’m not into pain play, so we’ll be fine, and I want to be dominant in the bedroom – so that’s something that we’ll have to work out with a safe word.”

“Meaning if I think you’re becoming too dominant for me, I should safe word out?”

“Exactly.” Tony reached out and brushed a fingertip against peter’s forehead, pushing his curls back. “My safe word is pineapple. You?”

“I don’t have one,” Peter admitted.

“Think of one,” Tony said. “It should have absolutely nothing to do with sex, though.”

“Gravy?”

“Sure. If you can remember to say it in the heat of things.”

“I’ll use gravy,” Peter decided.

“Good. Now why don’t you stand up, and pull your pants down for me, so I can see if your cock is as pretty as the rest of you?”

The boy smiled.

“The contract is signed,” he pointed out, even as he stood up and reached for his button. “There’s no backing out, now.”

Tony nodded, sitting up straighter and putting his hands on Peter’s hips to move him int position in front of him and between his legs.

“I did say blowjobs, right?” Stark asked, sliding his palm along the front of Peter’s jeans.

“No. It’s way up on my list, though, too…”

“Good.”

Tony pushed the boy’s hand away from his zipper and pulled it down, himself, and then slid jeans and briefs, down and steadied Peter while he stepped out of them. The younger man’s lower body was nicely muscled but lean, and his cock was already somewhat interested, rising, slightly, from a well-trimmed nest of sparse pubic hair.

“I thought you were going to start shaving your balls?” Tony asked, leaning over and pressing a kiss against the base of Peter’s cock, and then licking his way down to Peter’s sack.

“I will. Just not, yet.” Peter watched as Tony opened his mouth and took his cock into his mouth. “I’ve never done it before, so I thought I might get you to help me.”

Tony pulled back, looking up at him, and sliding his hand along Peter’s shaft to make sure it didn’t lose interest in what he was doing.

“I get to shave you?”

“Yes. As long as you’re careful.”

“ _Now_?”

“No. _Now_ I want you to suck me.”

“And then…?”

“Then I want to suck you.”

“You’re a pretty bossy guy, Peter Parker… especially for someone who didn’t mention a domination kink.”

“I don’t want to dominate you, Tony Stark,” Peter replied, taking hold of his cock and sliding the head against Tony’s lower lip, smiling when the older man caught it and sucked on just the tip for a moment. Jesus, that felt amazing, didn’t it? “I just want to use you for a while…”

“I can live with that,” he was assured. Stark stroked him, lapping at his balls, eagerly. “But then I’m going to use you, too. And it’s going to take all night.”

The thought made Peter shiver – although it could have been the way Tony slid his hand from Peter’s cock and around his though to slide along his ass crack.

“I can live with that.”

Tony smiled, and then turned his full attention to what he was doing – and _who_.


	6. 6

A hand slid along his bare shoulder, waking Peter from a restful sleep.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are…?”

The boy opened his eyes, looking up at Tony, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling down at him.

“Why are you _dressed_?” Peter asked, sleepily, reaching out to run his hand along the front of the expensive shirt Stark was wearing. “Get naked and fuck me.”

_Again_.

Tony pushed the blankets away from Peter’s body, eyes roaming at will. There weren’t any love bites, at Peter’s request, but the boy’s inner thighs were slick with lube and Tony’s drying cum, proof that they’d had very good time the night before.

After mutual blowjobs to get things rolling, Tony had taken Peter to his bedroom, and had spent a lot of time proving his earlier claim that he was incredible in bed. He’d explored the boy’s body with hands, lips and tongue, tasting him, teasing him, and learning where his most sensitive places were. He’d worked Peter’s ass open with fingers and tongue, but had then turned his attention back to the rest of his body. Peter had responded with enthusiasm and willingness, and had heartily approved when the billionaire had moved above him and slid his cock along Peter’s head, moving it down to his neck, and then his chest and belly, leaving a smear of glistening precum in its wake, and finally nudging the boy’s legs apart and sliding into him with a couple of demanding thrusts that had left them both groaning.

The older man’s heavier body had Peter pinned under him, then, satisfying Tony’s need to dominate while also respecting Peter’s boundaries. He started, slowly, to give Peter a chance to catch his rhythm, and then moved faster, and harder.

“That’s it, honey,” he’d crooned in Peter’s ear, hips driving his cock home, relentlessly. “Take it, Peter.”

Peter’s hands had gone to Tony’s back, holding him close, his own body rising to meet each thrust – which also rutted his cock against the coarse hairs on Tony’s belly. It was as good as he could have wished for, and the billionaire was just getting started. Peter climaxed at the realization, and Tony had groaned and the thrusts had come harder, and faster, and more demanding, until Tony pushed in, deep, and held himself still, his cock exploding inside Peter and washing his insides with his seed.

“I’m going to get you _so_ pregnant,” Tony had whispered, hitching his hips a few times, and feeling his cock respond with another spurt, or two.

“Yeah…” Peter was breathless under him, and simply clung to Tony while the two of them came down from that first coupling. A first example of what he was going to have. “That was good.”

“Yes.” Tony had turned his head and nibbled on Peter’s ear. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“Nope. You did just fine.”

“Good.”

They’d dozed off, nestled in each other’s embrace, but had woken again sometime in the wee hours of the night and Peter had asked Tony if he could go again. Slightly stung (or insulted?) at the insinuation that he was too old to go repeatedly, Stark had proven to his young lover that he was more than able to rise to the occasion, and this time Peter had found himself on his belly, fists holding tightly to the bedding while Tony pummeled him from behind. It did take a bit longer for the billionaire to reach his climax, but that was all to the good as far as they were both concerned. Tony had eventually emptied himself, once more, and Peter had given a satisfied noise as he’d cuddled up to the man and they’d again fallen asleep.

But now Stark was awake, and Peter was still sleepy.

“I have to go to work,” Tony told him, leaning over and cupping Peter’s ass cheek. He felt a twitch at the way the boy raised up a bit into that touch, more than willing to be groped, obviously. “If you need anything, call me – or tell FRIDAY and she’ll tell me.”

“Is there anything you want me to do?”

“Just enjoy yourself. Have fun.”

This was kind of the calm before the storm for Peter, Tony knew, and he wanted the boy to have a chance to acclimate to the new surroundings and get himself settled in before the transformation happened and things got intense. The sex had been great, too, but it definitely served the dual purpose of getting them more comfortable with each other.

Peter made a sleepy noise of agreement, and Tony squeezed his buttock once more and then stood up. The boy was almost asleep, again, before he left the room.

><><><><><

While Stark spent the day in a meeting and then working on his newest suit in his workroom, Peter spent his looking around what would – technically – be his prison for the next year. It was a pretty nice place, though, and he definitely wasn’t complaining.

When he eventually woke up and got out of bed, he went to his room and took a shower and changed into clean clothes. There was a cleaning service that came once a week (Peter wouldn’t be interacting with them – he and Tony had already agreed that when FRIDAY informed him of their imminent arrival, Peter would make himself scarce and hang out in the pool house – and Peter had been told that the linens and bedding were always brought in and replaced when the cleaning people came. Peter could do his own laundry, he’d assured Tony when Stark had brought up the idea of having it sent out, as well. True, the cleaning people would know that someone was staying at Tony’s place with him, but they had their own confidentiality agreements with their employer, and as long as they didn’t actually see Peter, they wouldn’t have anything to gossip about, anyway.

Once Peter was dressed for the day, he made his way to the kitchen, starving after such an active night. He scrambled some eggs, and about dropped the pan when FRIDAY spoke up.

“Boss wants to know if you want him to bring anything special home when he comes.”

“What? Oh. No. Just him. Thanks.”

He finished eating and then went outside and took a long walk around the entire perimeter of the estate. It was big, and heavily wooded, and there was a tall iron fence around all of it. Peter knew that FRIDAY monitored the security of the estate, and that if someone were bold enough to actually try to break in, the police would be notified – _after_ the AI sent a nonlethal shock through the fencing to deter the would-be intruder.

He wondered how many times that may have happened, before, and would try to remember to ask, sometime. The boy had an easy lunch of sandwiches and chips and then spent some time online, working on schoolwork. It had been part of their agreement that he would finish his classes for this term, and then put his education on hold until his contract with Tony was up. His classes were tricky, for the most part, because they were advanced, but he found that FRIDAY was a handy source of information if something stumped him, and he finished all that he needed to do by the time the AI informed him that Stark was done for the day and had left the tower and was on his way home.

“Then I’ll make dinner,” Peter said, more to himself than FRIDAY.

Of course, Peter could cook, but he wasn’t Gordon Ramsey or even capable of anything like the meal that Tony had made them the evening before. It was something that he thought he might work on while he was stuck in the house and not eating fast food like he normally would. Both because it wasn’t convenient, and because he was going to be eating as healthy as possible to make sure there weren’t any complications that might be avoidable simply by keeping a better diet.

He made a casserole with chicken and noodles and peas, put it together and was putting it in the oven when the door opened.

“Peter? I’m home?”

The boy smiled. That wasn’t something that he heard, right? Not since he was a little kid. He walked into the living room and greeted Tony, who was just pulling off his suit jacket. The billionaire smiled.

“Hey.”

“Hi. How was the drive?”

“Not as bad as I thought it might be. I think it’s going to work out pretty well.”

“Yeah? That’s good.”

Tony nodded his agreement, and sat down on the sofa, pulling Peter down with him, much to the boy’s delight.

“What did you do today?”

“Took a long walk, looked around, did some homework. You?”

“I didn’t accomplish anything.”

“No?”

Tony tugged the hem of Peter’s shirt out of his jeans and slid his hand under it, his palm running along the boy’s belly and chest.

“No. All I could think about was you… and how much I want to be inside you.”

“Oh?” Peter shifted, bringing his leg over the billionaire so he could straddle him, and he pulled his shirt up and off, more than willing. “I just put dinner in the oven, but you have about 45 minutes to show me just how much.”

The older man made an approving noise and both hands found Peter’s hips and slid under his jeans to linger on his ass. He’d actually hoped for just this reaction, but the drive home had given him time to worry that maybe Peter wasn’t willing to play _every_ night. Tony was a lusty man, and he had high hoped that Peter would keep up with him.

“So you’re not opposed to the idea?”

“Nope. I’m looking forward to it.”

Perfect.


	7. 7

“Last chance to change your mind.”

Peter looked at Dr. Strange, and then at Tony, who was watching him. He knew that the doctor was right; he could change his mind right now. His last chance to not go through with the craziest thing that Peter had ever heard of, and to avoid what was probably going to be an incredibly uncomfortable ordeal – at least toward the end of it. He’d never been pregnant, of course, but he’d seen pregnant women waddling around looking uncomfortable – and had even watched porn featuring pregnant women, and they didn’t look comfortable.

But he wasn’t worried. It was only nine months, and he could do anything for nine months. Besides, Tony was counting on him, now, and Peter wasn’t going to let him down.

“No. I’m good,” he told the doctor. “How do we do it?”

Tony was in jeans and a polo, while Strange was dressed in an impeccable suit. Peter was only wearing a robe, because that was what the doctor had suggested when he’d spoken to Stark the evening before to set up a time for him to arrive.

The surgeon snapped his fingers, and there was just the slightest of lurches – as if he’d suddenly stepped onto a slippery spot on the sidewalk – and a sudden ache from somewhere inside him. He must have paled, because Tony reached for him, one hand taking his arm and steadying him, the other on his hip. Peter leaned into him for just a moment, while the doctor watched, and then felt a little better, and was able to nod a reassurance to Tony.

“How do you feel?” Strange asked.

“Different… but not too bad.”

“Shall we take a look?”

“Yeah.” He stepped away from Tony and opened his robe, looking down at himself, almost nervously.

His chest and belly looked the same – he’d almost expected to have breasts, but his chest hadn’t changed and the nipples were still where they were supposed to be. His penis was right where _it_ belonged, too, and didn’t look any different to him. He dropped the robe and let it fall to the floor and watched as Strange stepped closer, putting on a pair of examination gloves.

“Up on the table, please…”

The dining room table probably wasn’t the best place for this kind of examination, but the only other place that might have worked, similarly, was the pool table, and Tony had joked about getting the felt on the pool table messy. There was a sheet protecting the finish of the dining table, and Peter eased himself onto it, parting his legs.

“Lean back, Peter,” Tony said, also curious to see any changes.

The boy’s balls were shaven, now; Tony had done it, himself, a couple of days before, and would continue to maintain the smoothness that they were, just then, for the duration. Strange slid a finger along Peter’s penis and the boy gasped.

“Tender?”

“It didn’t _hurt_ ,” he said, and Tony saw his cock twitch. “But I definitely felt it.”

“You’re going to be much more sensitive, there,” the doctor said. “Like I told you, it’ll be acting in the same capacity as a clitoris, and they’re _extremely_ reactive.”

“Obviously…” Tony said, also sliding a finger along that thickening flesh.

“Jesus…” Peter murmured, feeling all his blood suddenly rushing south.

“You might switch to boxers,” Strange suggested, taking a handful of the boy’s testicles and lifting them out of his way, gently. “They’ll be more comfortable. Well, look at that…”

Tony did, but Peter couldn’t see. They’d anticipated this, of course (Strange had, anyway) and Peter reached for the large hand mirror. He moved it into the right position so he could see what they were looking at and was amazed to see that right under his balls, sure enough, there was a slit. When Strange separated the lips, all three men could see an opening where there hadn’t been one, before. It wasn’t right up against Peter’s rectum like he’d thought it would be, but Strange looked satisfied with the results.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, looking at Peter as he brushed his finger against the slit.

“No.” Peter hissed, though, when the doctor’s finger nudged it, as if to slide in. “ _That_ did.”

“Sorry.” Strange nodded, and looked at both men. “It’s untried,” he reminded them. “That means it’s going to be extremely tight.” Now his gaze went to Tony. “Don’t even think about putting your penis in it until you have it well stretched. Think of him as a virgin, and the vagina as needing plenty of preparation. Only, I want you to stretch it for at least a few days, to work it open enough to make sure you don’t hurt him when the time comes.”

“How should I do that?”

A jar appeared in Strange’s hand.

“Use this. Start with your pinky, and work your way up to the other fingers as it becomes more flexible. Plenty of this, or lube, until it isn’t so uncomfortable. Then add another finger, and another, until it’s ready to accommodate your size. Playing with _Peter’s_ penis should produce lubrication in the vagina, as well, so keep that in mind. Consider it three days of _foreplay_ , if it helps, but be careful the first few times, especially.”

“I will.”

Strange nodded, and turned to the other matter. He’d brought a portable sonogram machine and now he reached for it.

“Let me take a look at your insides,” he said. “And we’ll see if I’m as good as I think I am.”

The screen didn’t look like much to Peter or Tony while the doctor did his test, running a jelly-lie substance over Peter’s lower abdomen and then angling a wand in all directions. Strange looked pleased with the results, though, and he finally nodded, wiping the wand and Peter’s stomach and pelvis.

“Well?” Tony asked.

“Everything is there. Eggs will be forming within days. By the time he’s ready to start having sex, his body should have made everything that you’ll need to conceive. Then it’s just a matter of waiting for the timing to be right. I don’t need to explain that to you.”

“No.”

“Any questions?”

“None, right now.”

“If you have any, feel free to call me.” He knew they couldn’t call a regular doctor, after all. “I’m invested in this,” he reminded them both. “And I went through a gynecology rotation, an obstetrics rotation, and a pediatrics one. If something comes up that I can’t handle, we’ll bring in a specialist, if needed, but it’s a natural process – now that Peter has all the pieces needed – so we’ll let nature do her thing.”

“With a lot of help from us,” Tony added.

“True.”

The doctor left, then, and Peter put the robe on while Tony walked Strange out. When he returned, the boy was puling the sheet from the table.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re _amazing_ ,” Tony said, moving up to him and sliding his hands inside the robe, pushing it open, and hugging Peter against him. He nuzzled the boy’s neck with his lips, and smiled when it made Peter shiver. “So amazing…” he repeated.

Peter made a pleased noise, both at the compliment, and at the touch.

“Want to play with my vagina?” he asked, sliding his hand along Tony’s hip.

The billionaire chuckled.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He cupped Peter’s ass in his big hands pulling the boy close and adjusting a little when Peter moaned at the sensation of his cock brushing Tony’s jeans. “Let’s go to my bed, though, so I have more room.”

“Yeah.”

They picked up the jar Strange had left them, and took it with them, and Tony pulled Peter’s robe off before the boy climbed into the bed, looking up at him, expectantly. Tony undressed, as well, sliding into bed beside him, and running his fingers along Peter’s body. A full week of daily sex had the two of them completely comfortable with each other, and with their bodies, but Tony was amused that Peter was already achingly hard.

“You’re _that_ sensitive, now?” he asked, sliding his fingertip along the head, and noticing that there was a steady flow of precum dribbling down the shaft.

“Yeah…”

Tony’s hand went between Peter’s thighs, and the boy parted them for him. He felt Tony’s finger slide to that new slit, and then find the opening of his vagina.

“That’s amazing,” the billionaire said, forcing the tip of his pinky into Peter. “It’s already wet.”

Peter brought his hand down to join Tony’s, but there really wasn’t room there for both of them, so he stroked his cock, instead, amazed at how incredible the simple action felt. Tony opened up the jar and scooped a little of the clear fluid out onto his fingertip.

“Keep stroking yourself, baby,” he crooned as he slathered Peter’s vagina with the lube. “Get wet for me…”

Peter moaned, softly, and felt Tony’s pinky against his opening, again, and this time the older man didn’t stop with just the tip of his finger. He slid it in, slowly, but in it went, and then he moved it around, working Peter’s insides, and feeling the boy’s muscles tighten around the single digit.

“Jesus, Tony… that feels good.”

“Yeah? Good.” The billionaire lowered his head and took the head of Peter’s cock into his mouth and Peter’s gasp was music to his ears – and the spurt of precum that he tasted, suddenly, was like ambrosia.

The boy’s thighs parted even more, providing as much access as Tony needed, and he worked the boy’s insides with the same skill that he used while he sucked him off, noticing that the more he teased Peter’s cock, the wetter the vagina was becoming, which made things easier for him. When he pulled his pinky out and replaced it with his middle finger, curling it inside Peter, the boy grunted and climaxed, arching into Tony’s hand and mouth, simultaneously. Stark sucked him down, guzzling his load of cum and moving his finger inside him with the same rhythm that they’d be using later, and Peter came down off his climax with a long, drawn out sigh of pleasure.

“Fuuuuuuuck…”

Tony pulled back, releasing Peter’s cock but not pulling his finger from where it was inside him.

“You liked that, huh?”

“You might say that.” Peter ran his fingers along Tony’s cheek. “This could work.”

“Of course it will.”

He'd make sure of it.


	8. 8

“Now, we’re going to go slow…”

Peter nodded his agreement, looking up at Tony, who was kneeling between his legs. Both of them were naked, and both were aroused, but Tony looked as nervous and worried as Peter felt.

“Yeah.”

They’d _been_ going slow, really. For the last three days, since Peter’s transformation, they’d spent several times each day in bed, with Tony carefully fingering Peter, stretching him little by little with the most intimate of touches, and all the while playing with Peter’s cock, to make sure it didn’t get too uncomfortable for the younger man. It _was_ uncomfortable, despite the attentions, of course. Luckily Peter didn’t have a hymen to deal with, but that new part of him was so tight and so new that it definitely needed more preparation than a simple handful of lube and a couple of licks or nibbles.

Tony took charge of it, and while he was methodical, he also made sure that Peter climaxed several times during the day, as if to make up for the discomfort that he was causing him. Peter would return the favor, because it was exciting to Tony to play with Peter like that, but they’d decided that they would forgo any anal sex until they had the whole vagina thing working the way it was supposed to be – just to make sure that Tony didn’t tear anything from the other direction in his excitement. Neither minded the self-imposed restriction; Peter was good at blowjobs and Tony was an appreciative recipient, more than willing to unload down the boy’s throat, for now.

When they needed a break – mostly when _Peter_ needed a break – they’d get dressed and would go for a walk, or a swim, or something else that required physical activity, but nothing painful or even sexually related. Tony had taken a few days off, wanting to spend that time with Peter to help him, and he admitted that he would be too distracted to get anything done if he was trying to work, so there wasn’t any sense in it, anyway. Peter was wearing silk boxers and sweats, now, since his penis was sensitive enough that denim pressing in on him wasn’t comfortable, either.

After three days it wasn’t so painful, and Tony was up to three fingers. They didn’t match him for size, of course, but Peter was willing to give it a try, and Stark wanted to make sure Peter was ready by the time he was actually ovulating. He fingered him that morning when they woke up, and had pushed three fingers in as deep as he could, casually stroking Peter’s cock to add to the lubrication that he’d been using, and there hadn’t been too much resistance. Peter was the one who suggested they should give it a go – to see how he’d do – and Tony had agreed.

They’d spent the day relaxing. Peter had homework and Tony helped him with it, and then they’d gone for a walk. It was something that Peter enjoyed, and since winter was coming, soon, they wouldn’t be able to get out as much, later, when the weather was inclimate, and it might be too slippery on the walking paths. Peter had made dinner, despite the older man’s protests that he should go rest up for that evening’s activities, but the boy had pointed out that he’d rather not have time to lay around and think about it, and that focusing on cooking would be a nice distraction.

“We could wait,” Tony had offered. “Another day wouldn’t matter on way or the other.”

“I’m ready,” had been the response. The boy had stepped into Tony’s arms and slid his hand down the front of the billionaire’s pants. “I’m anxious to see what it feels like.”

And a little anxious, of course.

And now it was actually happening.

“You’re so beautiful, Peter,” Tony told him, nudging his thighs apart and settling between them. His cock was thick and eager, and his hand was stroking himself to make sure it stayed that way. “I’ve told you that, right?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes. You are, too.”

“I’m going to fuck you…” Tony crooned, slathering his cock with lube, and then doing the same with Peter’s opening, while Peter stroked his own cock and felt himself responding to the words, the action, and to the sight of Stark above him, so eager and ready. “I’m going to get you ready for me, honey. Going to fuck you so hard. And so long…”

Despite the words, he was gentle when he nudged the head of his cock against Peter’s vagina. The head went in without too much difficulty, although Peter held his breath and Tony couldn’t miss the pained expression. Now engaged and in place, Tony released his cock and leaned over so that he could press a kiss against Peter’s jaw, and he forced another half inch or so into him as he did, caressing the younger man’s cheek.

“Shhh, honey…” he whispered, feeling him tense at the invasion. He was so incredibly tight, but Tony was going slowly, and being as careful as he needed him to be. “It’s getting there… We’re getting there…”

Peter moaned, but he didn’t struggle under him, and he didn’t use his safe word to make the billionaire stop. It had to be done, and while it wasn’t the best of sensations, it wasn’t unbearable, either.

“I know. I’m okay…”

He clung to Tony, though, as he was filled, inch by inch, and praised for being brave, and beautiful, and stronger than anyone the older man knew. When Tony was hilted inside him, they both held still, waiting for a minute to catch their breath and savor the sensation. Then the billionaire pulled back, and once more carefully slid forward, not thrusting at all, but sliding himself in and out with smooth and careful strokes.

“You’re so incredible,” he groaned, forcing himself to remain at the same pace. “So tight and perfect for me.”

Peter brought his legs up, to hold him and draw him in as deep as he could, responding to a deep-seated desire that he’d never felt before.

“Yes…”

The motions were steady; in… out… in… out. They never sped up, and the older man never stopped crooning reassurances to Peter as he slowly made love to him, making sure to go as deep as he could get, giving Peter every inch, making sure he was as open as he could be in preparation for what was going to come, later. Peter moaned when Tony finally tensed and then stilled, his cock spasming inside him, a wet warmth filling him in that entirely new place, and he held Tony firmly in place, supporting him as he collapsed on top of him and caught his breath.

The billionaire noticed that their bellies were damp, but not wet, when he finally eased himself out of the boy and rolled to the side. Peter hadn’t had any release, despite the time that Tony had taken.

“Are you alright?” he asked, gathering the boy into his embrace and reaching for a blanket to cover them.

“Yes.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No.” Peter shivered, and Tony cuddled him closer to his warm body. “It wasn’t that _comfortable_ , but I think it wasn’t bad for our first try.”

Reassured and promising himself that he’d make sure Peter had plenty of chances to climax, soon, Tony nuzzled his neck and sighed, satisfied, and pleased – and maybe ready to sleep for a while.

“At least we know I don’t need to go buy a turkey baster…”

Peter chuckled.

“Good thing.”

><><><><><

Stephen Strange came to the estate the next morning to check and make certain that their first time hadn’t caused any troublesome injury to Peter. He examined the boy, thoroughly, and asked Peter and Tony some pointed questions about technique, and pain levels and seemed pleased with the replies – and with what he found.

“It looks good, guys,” he said, as they walked out onto the back patio. “There isn’t any tearing, and minimal redness or swelling.”

“Recommendations?” Tony asked.

“Vaginal sex once a day to make sure he stays accessible.”

“What about _other_ sex?” the billionaire asked. “Could I hurt him if I wanted to have anal?”

The surgeon smirked.

“Try to limit yourself,” he replied. “You’re not going to want to be too worn out when Peter begins to ovulate. Speaking of, do you have your AI keeping an eye on that?”

“Yes. Peter pees in a special toilet, so FRIDAY can monitor his fertility cycle – and will inform us of when it starts.”

“Good.”

“Any suggestions for that?” the billionaire asked.

“Get some little blue pills and get to work. Be careful to not be rough, but the more semen you can pour into him the better the chances are that he’ll conceive. Peter’s sex drive should rise to match anything Viagra might do to you, so just make sure that you use plenty of lube, and make sure it isn’t a spermicide type.”

“You don’t think we should try some fertility treatment, or something?” Peter asked. “Just to make sure?”

“I think it would be a bad idea. Those treatments have a propensity to produce multiples, and the last thing we want is to subject Peter’s body to more than one baby. That was one of the reasons I suggested the questionnaires asked about twins or triplets in the family lines. One baby is enough.”

“Agreed,” Tony said. “I don’t want to risk you. Or the baby.”

“That’s it, gentlemen,” Strange said, shrugging. “The next important step is to get him pregnant. Until then, just make sure you’re eating right, getting plenty of rest, and staying away from any kinds of stress.”

“We can do that.”


	9. 9

Despite the fact that they were now prepared to attempt to conceive a baby, it took Peter’s body three weeks to respond, completely, to the new changes.

While they waited, it was life as usual – as much as they could make it, anyway. Tony went to the office every morning, kissing Peter, tenderly, and reminding him that he was only a phone call away if he needed anything. By then Peter was over the novelty of the big, expensive estate, so he had started looking for things to do to keep himself occupied when Tony wasn’t there to talk to.

He’d suggested to Tony that he might order a keyboard, so he could use some of his down time to learn to play, and two days later a baby grand had been delivered to the estate, along with a matching bench, and sheet music for all levels. Peter had made himself scarce while it was being delivered and installed into one of the rooms off the main living area, but had then admired it, running his hand along the top and then plinking on the keys a few times.

He also had plenty of other activities; he was going to learn to speak Italian, and maybe take up knitting, or something, pretty much anything to pass the time in the quiet days that he knew were coming. The boy spent the days finishing up the last of his classwork, spending time in the gym when he was restless, and already learning to cook with help from an online course and a lot of trial and error.

When Tony returned from working all day in the tower, the billionaire would spend time with Peter, well aware that it wasn’t any fun to be isolated, and would gently remind him with lips and hands that he appreciated what he was doing for him. A little time spent together giving Tony a chance to wind down, and then conversations over dinner – starting with what they were eating, and then what Tony had done that day, and finishing with how Peter was feeling, and then discussion of any concerns that either may have while they did the dishes, together.

Then it was time for bed, and Tony would take Peter into his room and undress him, spending plenty of time caressing, tasting, and stroking the boy until Peter was writhing and his vagina was drenched and ready. Tony would nudge those long legs apart and would ease into the boy, making love to him slowly and thoroughly, and always finishing with a spasm that ended with Peter’s insides being washed with Tony’s climax. They both enjoyed it, and it didn’t hurt so much after the first week of constant usage, so Peter was able to have his own release, sometimes during, but always before and after.

Tony made sure of it.

They'd fall asleep wrapped in each other’s embrace, and would wake the next morning feeling warm, and wanted, and refreshed enough to start all over, again.

><><><><><>

“Peter’s biometrics are changing,” FRIDAY announced as they sat down to breakfast a few weeks into the transformation.

The boy looked up, but it was Tony who replied.

“His hormones?”

“Correct. Every indication would suggest that he is coming into ovulation.”

“Yes!” Tony smiled, looking at the boy, excitedly. “Hear that?”

Peter was excited, too, but also a little nervous.

“Yeah. Do you have your pills?”

Tony had scoffed at the notion that he’d really need anything to help him get hard, but Strange hadn’t been joking, and had pointed out that it was the best way to make sure Tony was able to rise to the occasion. He pointed out that if they didn’t get pregnant the first time around, it was going to be another month before they could possibly try again, and asked if it was really worth a little nudge to his pride to delay the baby by that much.

Which, of course, had been enough for Tony. He’d gone online and ordered a large supply – and had listened to Stephen giving him a list of precautions to take while using them – and had then set them in the stand by his bed.

“I’m ready, honey,” Tony assured the boy. “Let me call Pepper and we can get started.”

He’d told Peter that he’d warned his PA that she was going to be running the company for a few weeks, because he was going to take some down time in the near future. When she’d (understandably) asked him why, he’d pointed out that he was working on a secret project, and she’d assumed it was with the Avengers, while the Avengers also knew that he was going to be off the grid and unavailable for a while, and they assumed it was related to Stark industry business.

He had all the time that they needed, now, to get Peter pregnant.

“How do you want to do it?” Peter asked, slipping out of his clothes once they were back in Tony’s room, and the first pill had been downed. “Like a prize stallion and his brood mare? Doggie style? Or with you on top? Or something else?”

“We can do all of them,” Tony reminded him, amazed at the sensation of the blood rushing south without even touching himself. He took off the suit that he’d already dressed in, ready for his workday, and gestured, his hand already going to his cock and stroking it, eagerly. “Get on the bed, Peter. Show me how you want me.”

The boy rolled onto his belly, and then lifted up, bringing his ass up toward Tony as the man advanced on him, cock swollen and eager, now. Tony was stroking himself, and he reached for the lube. They were going to make sure to use plenty of the stuff, to avoid chafing and to make everything as easy as possible. The position had the added benefit of using gravity to keep Peter’s cock and smoothly shaven balls from blocking the boy’s vagina, and Tony released his own cock to wrap fingers around Peter’s – which elicited a low moan from the younger man, and a soft whimper when Tony started stroking him, to add some natural lubrication.

“Jesus…”

“Good, honey,” Tony crooned, his cock already leaking precum, which he rubbed against Peter’s opening with the hand that wasn’t stroking Peter. “Get wet for me, baby.”

“Fuck me, Tony…” Peter moaned, looking over his shoulder, and then dropping his head, so his face was in the warm bedding. “I need it.”

He was ultra-sensitive, and had been getting more and more as the days had been leading up to this – he just hadn’t realized it since it had been gradual as his body had begun changing. Tony dribbled more lube on the head of his cock and lined up, sliding himself into the tight opening with practiced ease, now, and burying himself to the hilt. His hands went to Peter’s hips, and his grip was firm as he pulled back and then slid back in, his body and Peter’s easily matching the same rhythm from so many couplings in preparation for this.

“Are you thinking fertile thoughts?” Tony asked, pushing back in, his breath coming faster, as the thrusts did, as well. Not _too_ fast; he was still being careful. “Thinking about making me a baby?”

“Yes… Fuck… _harder_ , Tony…”

They both knew that it wasn’t going to happen on the first try, but it was exciting to both of them to consider it, and something inside Peter was aching for him to be filled with Tony’s seed, repeatedly. He pressed back against the next thrust, but Stark was stronger than him, and his grip held him in place. Forcing him to take his cock as deep as he could get it, but setting the pace, as well, and using Peter, so perfectly.

“It’ll come, honey,” he assured him, forcing himself not to angle for Peter’s prostate since he wasn’t in the right hole to do it. “I’m going to fill you so full of me… Going to fuck you a million times, today, and then start, again, tomorrow…”

Each motion was brushing the tip of Peter’s cock against the bedding, and the boy cried out in pleasure as he reached his pinnacle and then went crashing down the other side, his own load of cum splashing on the bedding and a new warmth of moisture enveloping Tony’s cock. The billionaire reacted, predictably, and he shoved himself deep, his grip holding Peter pinned against him as he filled him with rope after rope of hot, boiling, cum.

Tony grunted, his weight pushing Peter to the bedding, and his heavier body following, still impaling the boy. He didn’t move, wanting to make sure every drop was where it needed to be, at the right time.

“That was intense…” Peter whispered from somewhere under him.

“Yes, it definitely was that.” Tony shifted, rocking his hips forward and back, not pulling out, and feeling his body respond with a willingness. An eagerness, really. He wasn’t even getting soft! “Hang on, honey,” he murmured, his knees nudging Peter’s apart without even lifting his hips to get a new angle. “We’re going to go, again.”

Peter made a strangled noise of agreement, and then pushed back against the next demanding thrust, more than willing.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.


	10. 10

“You two look exhausted.”

Stark nodded his agreement with that statement, bringing Strange a cup of coffee.

“Making a baby is harder than it looks.”

For eleven days, now, he and Peter had been having sex with the sole purpose of getting the boy pregnant. The first couple of days had been the easiest; Tony’s pills let him rise to the occasion far more often than he normally would have been capable of – despite his fine-tuned sex drive. Peter had been a willing participant every time, opening his legs and offering himself up to Tony’s demands no matter if it was day or night. His body was eager for conception, and was driving Peter to match Tony thrust for thrust.

After the first six days, though, the pace was beginning to tell on Tony, especially. He’d participated in some crazy orgies in his younger days, but never a week-long bender like this, and the little blue pills could only do so much. Peter, bless him, stepped up, though. His sex drive was still going strong, and he was younger than Tony, and had more stamina, and was willing to take advantage of that. The younger man would seduce the billionaire, role playing with him, and using all of the experience that he’d gained sleeping with Tony before this crazy time, in order to know what he would respond to, best. He cajoled Tony with words, lips and fingers, into getting hard enough to be able to slide into him, and then keeping his interest going strong through Tony’s climax, where he’d force yet more semen into Peter’s aching depths.

In between their loving, they’d get dressed and recuperate for a while, sitting on the sofa and simply holding each other, or eating a high calorie, high energy, meal to fuel their bodies for the next go round. Tony rarely left the house these days, and despite his own weariness, he made sure to take care of Peter’s needs. He was the one who cooked their meals, and he would pull the boy into a warm bath with him to keep him clean and healthy when Peter was too worn out to be concerned one way or the other. It was Tony who massaged Peter when his body screamed with cramps, or just plain ached.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Stephen said, accepting the coffee with a nod of thanks, and looking at Peter, who had dozed off on the sofa while they’d been waiting for the doctor to arrive. “Any indication from your AI on if your efforts have been successful?”

“As of this morning, we’re looking at an 80% probability of success. There are markers that are coming back positive, but FRIDAY isn’t willing to say yes until the long-ranged ones are also showing in the green.”

“That’s promising, then.”

“Are you going to take a look?”

The surgeon shook his head.

“I just wanted to check on you two. If I were to go nosing around, I wouldn’t really see much, just yet. Once fertilization occurs, it can take up to a week or so for the fertilized egg to attach to the uterus. The chemical markers that your AI can detect are going to be the best indicators, really. That and other classic symptoms.”

“Such as…?”

“Spotting… thickening of the vaginal walls – and maybe some milky discharge from there. If it smells, let me know and we’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t develop any infections. You’re probably beyond the need for sex every waking minute. Ge ahead and take it easy, for a while. He could get morning sickness, of course, or just be sick all the time, it depends. His breasts will be sore, and will change form and color, possibly.”

“Because he’s making milk?”

“No. That won’t happen for a while. These are all hormonal changes, to prepare for that. You might find that he gets grumpy at the drop of a hat, for the same reason – or that he cries. Everything is going to be out of whack for him, and you need to be ready for that – because he's not going to be able to articulate what’s going on with him, and I don’t want you snapping at him and making it worse.”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Tony promised. “Before it happens.”

“Good. He might develop fatigue – not the same as right now, of course – but it’s a possibility. Women do, and there’s no reason to believe that he won’t. He also might get cravings – or decide that something that he likes, now, is disgusting. So you’ll need to make sure that you adjust the pantry and fridge, accordingly. I want him eating.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Stark complained.

“Yes. And you’ll do it, because you want a baby. Right?”

“Yes.”

“I’d invest in a couple of what to expect when expecting books,” Strange suggested. “If you haven’t, already. They’ll have a more complete list of possibilities.”

“There’s _more_?”

The other man smirked.

“All kinds of exciting things are in store for you the next nine months – and then, just wait until the baby comes, because that’ll be a whole nother experience, completely.”

Tony shrugged.

“We’ll figure it out.” He _did_ want a baby, and he and Peter were smart, and willing. They’d do fine – especially with Stephen and his sound advice to guide them. “Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.”

“Right.” He smiled. “Thank you, Stephen.”

“You’re welcome.”

There were a few more words exchanged between the two men, but Stark looked tired, and the doctor wanted to let him get his rest. He’d seen what he had wanted to, after all. He finished his coffee and left, and once FRIDAY had locked the door behind Strange, Tony set his own cup aside and leaned over Peter’s sleeping form, his palm coming to rest on the boy’s cheek.

Those rich brown eyes opened, looking at him, sleepily.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, honey. I’m going to take you to bed.”

Peter nodded, reaching for his shirt to pull it off, assuming that Tony meant that they were going to have sex, again. He was tired, but he was always willing. It needed to be done to make sure they got him pregnant, after all, and he knew it. Sex had lost its enjoyment, though, and was well on its way to being a chore. Even with Tony, who was incredibly sexy, and really good at it.

The billionaire smiled, realizing what he was doing, and his hand stopped Peter.

“No. We’re just going to go get some sleep. I’m tired, and you’re tired, and FRIDAY’s giving us pretty good odds that we’ve done what we need to do, right? Let’s take a break.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, sliding a hand down Tony’s belly – and lower. “I’m good.”

God… if he weren’t so sore, Tony would have been willing to rise to the tempting offer. Peter was that delectable, even after almost two weeks of nonstop sex.

“You’re _amazing_ ,” he agreed. “But Stephen suggested that we take a break and get some real sleep, so we’re going to. Sound good?”

“Yeah.”

Tony stood up, again, and took Peter’s hand, pulling him to his feet, and smiling at the drunken staggering motions that the boy made. Stephen was right; he needed to let Peter get some rest. No sense getting him pregnant if he became sick, or something, from not being taken care of, properly. Feeling a rush of love that he was sure was just a byproduct of some hormones of his own – or whatever _masculine_ hormones were called, because those were the only ones that Tony could have, he was certain – the billionaire put his arm around Peter’s slim waist to steady him, and pressed a kiss against his temple.

He led Peter into his master bedroom, and while he did undress him, again, he left the boy’s boxers on, knowing that the sensitive skin of Peter’s penis would fare better enclosed in the silky fabric that pressing up against Tony, or the satin sheets. He’d rest better if he were comfortable. Peter made a satisfied sound when Tony pulled the blankets back and guided him into bed, and then the boy reached for him when the older man joined him, cheek going to his chest.

“Are you comfortable?” Tony asked, unnecessarily, since Peter was already relaxing next to him, a hand pressed against his side, but his body limp.

“Mhmmm… You?”

“Yes.” Tony kissed him, again, and there was a drowsy noise of happiness, which made another surge of that warm affection go through him. “Go to sleep, honey. And sleep yourself out, alright…?”

“’kay…”

It didn’t take long until Peter was asleep – if he’d really been all that awake in the first place – and Tony fell asleep, soon after, just as comfortable. Time enough to worry about the rest of it; he needed some real sleep, too.


	11. 11

_“Well?”_

“He’s pregnant.”

Tony couldn’t hide the smugness in his tone – or the excitement.

_“Your AI confirmed it?”_

“Yeah, Stephen. She’s done every test and they’ve all come back positive. And Peter’s been sick the last several mornings.”

_“If he’s sick, then why aren’t you home with him?”_

“Because he said he doesn’t need me there.”

Peter had woken Saturday morning feeling a little queasy. Nothing serious, he assured Tony, who had immediately considered calling Strange, he just had an upset stomach. Then he’d bolted for the bathroom that connected to Stark’s bedroom and had emptied what little remained in his stomach with a couple of heaves.

He’d felt better almost immediately, he said, wiping his face with a warm, wet, towel that Tony had brought for him. Despite the nausea, he looked better than he had in a week. It helped that he was actually sleeping, again, and he and Tony had had sex, yes, but not continuously, now, and it had lost the frenzied actions from before and was more for comfort, really. They both _thought_ Peter was pregnant, now, and were simply waiting for confirmation from FRIDAY.

Confirmation that was given both by FRIDAY a few days before, and now apparently by Peter’s own symptoms. Tony watched as Peter dressed, and then they walked into the living room and the billionaire settled the younger man on the sofa, wrapping him in a blanket with a couple of barf bags close at hand, just in case. Peter sipped some water for an hour or so, dozing off and on, and when he woke, he assured Tony that he felt alright. Well enough to nibble on a piece of dry toast, and then go for a walk with Tony, who was hovering, protectively, as if afraid the boy was going to collapse any moment.

The weather was perfect; it was early June and the sun was shining brightly, with just a few fat, puffy, clouds above them that may be threatening rain, later, but were simply for show, just then.

“How do you feel?” Tony had asked.

“I’m okay,” Peter told him. He rubbed a palm across his chest, though. “MY nipples ache a little, though.”

They both had read all of the _what to expect when_ expecting books, by now, and knew that that was normal.

“Do you want me to massage them?”

Peter shook his head.

“Maybe later?”

He didn’t _need_ it, but he knew that Tony really didn’t have a lot to do, now that he was pregnant, and he wanted to make sure he felt like he was part of the process, still. Besides, it might feel good. The books said that it would make them ache less, anyway.

“Yes. Of course.”

When they had completed their walk, and it was a long one because Peter was restless, they went back inside and Tony made them lunch. Simple sandwiches because Peter didn’t want to risk anything heavier, and then an easy day with the two of them on the sofa watching movies, with Peter’s cheek resting on Tony’s thigh, and the older man with his hand under Peter’s shirt, massaging each nipple, gently.

Dinner had been pasta with white sauce and rolls, and Tony had watched Peter’s appetite, carefully, but was pleased that he ate well – and that it stayed down. They spent the evening playing Scrabble, like an old married couple, Tony thought, privately, and then had made an early night of it. With the need for constant sex out of the way, Peter was free to sleep in his own room, of course, but he enjoyed the sensation of being engulfed in Tony’s arms through the night, and rarely did.

Sunday morning had started the same way Saturday had, and Tony would have cheered if it wouldn’t have been so inappropriate to be happy that Peter was huddled, miserably, over the toilet.

“FRIDAY?” he’d asked, wetting a washcloth for Peter. “What do the latest markers show?”

“99% chance of a viable pregnancy.”

“Hear that, honey?” Tony crooned, handing Peter the washcloth. “You’re pregnant.”

Peter smiled, and then threw up, again.

He’d celebrate, later.

_“You’re certain he’s alright?”_ Strange asked.

“He was sick this morning, and yesterday, and Saturday morning,” Stark said to the imagine on his video screen. “But he throws up, and then rests for a while, eats some toast and feels better. I offered to stay home, just in case, but he said that he was fine – and FRIDAY is keeping an eye on him.”

_“Good. So now we have a bit of a window. Figure he’s at least a couple of weeks along – assume mid-June, to early June, for conception date – and we’re looking at a delivery somewhere in March.”_

“FRIDAY agrees with you.”

“Any other symptoms?”

“Aching nipples and he’s a little tired, lately.”

_“Are you two getting along, alright?”_

“Yes. He hasn’t been grumpy, or anything – but the books confirmed that he might get that way. Are you going to come by and check him out?”

_“We’ll set something up for next weekend.”_

“Sounds good. I’ll let him know.”

The call ended and Tony turned off the display, looking out the window of his office at the city below. It was a beautiful day, and he was in high spirits; feeling optimistic and hopeful.

“FRIDAY? What’s Peter doing?”

_“Playing the piano.”_

“Oh? How’s he doing?”

_“You don’t want to know.”_

The billionaire smiled.

“He has plenty of time to figure it out, now.”

Nine months to gestate the baby and then two months nursing it to give it the best head start it could have. They were a little behind schedule, but their contract was flexible for this very reason. He scratched his cheek, pleased.

He was going to be a father.

><><><><><><>

Peter was taking a bath when Tony returned home that afternoon. The light tap on the bathroom door would have surprised him if FRIDAY hadn’t announced his return to the estate, and Tony, himself, called his name when he’d walked through the door. Knowing that his AI would tell him where he was, Peter didn’t get out of the bathtub. He was pretty relaxed, after all. Being sick in the morning sucked, and while it didn’t last long, it was tiring. His stomach muscles ached from heaving, and his head hurt, sometimes, but he was tired more than anything.

He knew it was a symptom of being pregnant; he and Tony had read up on them, repeatedly, and Peter was trying to keep track of them, and trying to determine if something that he felt was actually because he was pregnant (holy shit!), or if it was just an ache, or stress, or something else. He felt good, though, when Tony stuck his head in the door, and the older man smiled so cheerfully that Peter smiled, too.

“Honey, I’m home…”

“You’re early,” the boy noted.

“I wanted to come home and be with you.”

Peter’s eyes lit up.

“In the _biblical_ sense?”

“In _every_ sense.” Tony walked into the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub, sliding his hand into the water, and then running it along Peter’s chest, gentle – as always, now – when he caressed the boy’s nipples, and then along his belly and lower, until he was palming Peter’s cock, and caressing his smoothly shaven testicles. “Are you up for it?”

Strange had told them no vaginal sex. Despite the fact that pregnant women had sex up to their delivery date in many cases, Peter wasn’t normal by any stretch of the imagination, and they weren’t going to risk anything happening. _Anal_ sex wasn’t taken off the table, however, as long as Tony wasn’t rough, and they were careful not to put Peter into any positions that might be uncomfortable, later, when he was bigger.

“I could be talked into it,” Peter said, feeling his cock hardening under Tony’s ministrations. “Are you going to join me?”

Tony stood up, pulling off his shirt and then opening his belt.

“Sit up, honey,” he said, dropping his pants and then walking over to stand by the tub, hand already stroking himself, now. “Get me hard for you.”

Peter looked up at him, smiling, even as he opened his mouth, proving that being pregnant wasn’t doing anything to his sex drive – at least, not yet. Tony made an appreciative noise when the boy began playing with him, and he sifted his fingers through Peter’s curls, tugging them every now and then to make the younger man look up at him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

A sound that may have been agreement, or something else entirely, but Tony didn’t give him a chance to say anything. He was too busy sliding his cock in deeper, savoring Peter’s experience because it definitely worked in his favor.

There wasn’t anything wrong with his sex drive, either.


	12. 12

“Aren't the other Avengers wondering about what you’ve been up to?” Peter asked Tony one evening.

The two of them were on the sofa, Peter stretched out his full length, with his head in Tony’s lap, while the billionaire caressed his shoulder and side. It was a comfortable position for Peter. He was tired much of the time, and was losing weight, which had concerned Tony, since the boy wasn’t really all _that_ big to start with. The books they’d read, the articles that they’d researched, and Stephen Strange, had all reassured them that it was normal. He _could_ have been gaining a bit of weight and that would have been normal, too, though. It was the morning sickness, and his body preparing itself to nurture the baby, Strange had told them after a check up. If it continued into the second trimester, then they’d start to be concerned.

He was six weeks in, now, and they were in fairly new territory with Peter’s pregnancy. Not _completely_ , because he had the woman parts and the pregnancy was a natural one, but – of course – he was also a _man_ , and those woman parts were adjusting themselves much later in his life than a full woman’s body would. Stephen had suggested that Peter always have something in his stomach, saying that it might help with the queasiness – if nothing else, it would make sure he was getting some much needed protein – and there was a small plate of cheese and crackers always close at hand, even though sometimes Tony was the only one who had any.

“They’re used to me being erratic,” Stark told the younger man, setting aside the book that he was reading. He _had_ been doing research on a new tech for his suit, earlier, while making dinner, but when Peter had joined him, Tony had been ready to call it a night and just spend quiet time with the boy in whatever capacity he wanted. “I’m not always that social, really, in the best of times, but they can come see me at the tower during the day if they have anything that they need to ask me face to face, so they know I’m alive and kicking.”

He had declined a couple of invitations, already, to go out to dinner – usually with Rhodey – and it was easy enough to say that he was in the middle of a project that needed his full attention. That wasn’t even that unusual. And it was absolutely _true_.

“What if you have a mission?”

“If it’s something serious enough that they need firepower, I’ll see if Rhodey can go, in my stead. All of the newer suits can be handled, remotely, so even if they need me, there’s a chance I wouldn’t even need to physically be there.” He’d clearly already considered that possibility. Tony brushed the back of his hand along Peter’s cheek. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m going to be here for you.”

“Alright.”

Peter sighed, feeling a bit of relief, and closed his eyes. He was already tired, really, and it was only just after dinner. He was always tired. He reached for Tony’s hand, and held his breath for a moment when he felt a cramp go through his stomach. Another thing that was perfectly normal – the articles said it was much like menstruation cramps – but Peter had never felt them before, and was beginning to be relieved that he was a guy. Then, when the cramp passed, he shifted a little, maintaining the contact with Stark, but turning so that his face was turned toward Tony’s body, instead of the fireplace.

“Are you going to sleep?”

“Is it okay?”

Meaning did Tony mind playing pillow?

“I think it’s a great idea.” He knew how tired Peter was – even though he didn’t understand it. It wasn’t like the baby was huge, yet, or kicking, or even taking a lot of nutrients. But the _books_ said he was going to be fatigued, and _Stephen_ said he was going to be fatigued, so Tony knew he was going to be fatigued. He definitely _looked_ fatigued. “Do you want a massage?”

“I just want to be held.”

That was easy enough. Tony reached for the book, again, with one hand, and the other rested once more on Peter’s shoulder, gently kneading the muscles there, and simply being close to him.

><><><><><>

“How far along are you?”

Tony frowned at Strange.

“You’re not keeping track?”

The doctor rolled his eyes at the billionaire.

“I do have _other_ considerations,” he reminded Tony. “Other dimensions and keeping the earth safe from anything evil or dangerous that might come banging on the door.”

“So… you’re a _magical_ Avenger?” Peter asked, curiously.

He knew the man could do magic, obviously, but he still didn’t understand how.

Tony snorted, amused by the question, but Strange didn’t think it out of line.

“No. Not an _Avenger_ of any kind,” he replied, rubbing gel on Peter’s abdomen so he could do an ultrasound. Regular pregnancies were checked once or twice, really, but Strange was monitoring Peter’s closely – despite his earlier statement. “The Avengers deal with this world. My sort deal with other dimensions, and realities.”

“Are you human?”

“Of course.” He turned to the task at hand, running his gloved hand along Peter’s stomach. “You’re beginning to look a little thicker…”

“He’s still losing weight, though,” Tony said, watching closely, as he always did. “That isn’t right, is it? At ten weeks?”

“Are you still getting sick, Peter?” Strange asked.

“Only sometimes.” That was a relief. Breakfast was his favorite meal of the day, and he was managing to eat it, again. “If I smell something weird, it’ll set me off.”

“That’s normal. Are you still tired?”

“Yes.”

“All the time,” Tony added. “I’m stuck doing all of the work, lately.”

Peter’s eyes filled with tears, and he brushed them away, impatiently.

“I don’t mean for you to-“

“Aw, honey…” Tony was quick to reassure, a hand going to Peter’s cheek so he could pulled the upper part of the boy against him in a hug, while Strange still had control of the lower section with his gooey gel. “I was only teasing, Peter. I’m sorry.”

He sniffed, trying to shake his head.

“I know. _I’m_ sorry.” The young man looked up at Strange. “I cry all the time – and for no reason.”

He’d known Tony was teasing him, after all. The older man was amazingly patient with Peter and all of his mood swings, and his lack of energy. He was the one that was doing all the work, and doing everything that he could to keep Peter sane as the baby began wreaking some serious havoc on his body and mind. Hormones were flooding the young man’s system, and it was difficult to handle.

A tissue appeared in the doctor’s hand and he gave it to Peter.

“There’s definitely a reason,” he assured him – and Tony. “Don’t worry; the moodiness shouldn’t last much longer.”

“I hope not,” Tony said, leaning over and kissing the top of Peter’s head. “Every time I make him cry, it costs me 50K.”

Instead of upsetting him with more teasing, that made Peter sniff, and smile.

“I told him that it doesn’t count,” he said to Strange. “But he said that the contract verbiage is clear, and he’s determined to pay me.”

“Then let’s hope the moodiness sticks around long enough for you to be able to buy yourself a tropical island, somewhere,” the doctor said, amused. He turned his attention to the display. “It’s a bit grainy,” he added, pointing. “But if you look closely, that’s the baby.”

Both men looked.

“Where?” Tony asked, frowning.

“This little glob, here.”

“Any way to enhance it?”

“Not by much.”

“FRIDAY?”

A different display lit up, close at hand, and all three men looked over at it. The embryo was little, but they had a better look at it.

“Wow…” Peter said. He smiled. “Look; it moved.”

“It’ll be doing a lot of that,” Strange said, also looking closely. “You just don’t feel it, because it’s so small, still.”

“How does he not _feel_ that?” Tony asked, leaning close, his hand on Peter’s back. “The thing is all over the place.”

“It’s not a _thing_ ,” Peter chided. “It’s your baby.”

Tony smiled, his expression tender as he looked at the display.

“Yeah. It’s incredible.”

Strange turned the machine off, and the display went blank.

“You’re beginning to actually get breasts,” he noted, wiping the gel from Peter’s stomach. “How do they feel?”

“They’re sensitive,” Peter replied, looking down at himself. They weren’t very big, yet, but he was wondering how big they might become, and Tony had made him cry when he’d suggested buying him a few bras – although it might end up being an option, really, depending on how big they got. “Not too painful, but I definitely know that they’re there.”

“It’s not a bad idea to continue to massage them,” the doctor reminded him – and Tony. “You’ll be breastfeeding, to begin with. If you get used to the sensation early on, it won’t hurt when the baby does it.”

“So… I’m under doctor’s orders to play with them?” Stark asked, caressing Peter’s back to assure him that he was teasing.

“You are,” Strange replied. “The more, the better.” He looked at the two. “Any questions?”

“I think we’re set,” Tony said, and Peter nodded his agreement.

“Good. I’ll see you both next week, then. Unless something comes up and you need me, sooner.”

“Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I'm not going to stretch the pregnancy too much. I want to make sure we get a sense of what Peter (and Tony) are going through, but there are only so many interesting things that I can write about with it. The real interesting stuff will happen when the baby comes, after all. Still will have a least a couple of more chapters of pregnant Peter before that, though, and I might throw some little angsts in, but nothing serious, right now. Hope it is still fun!


	13. 13

“Peter? Honey, I’m home…”

Tony never got tired of saying it, really, and luckily, it didn’t annoy Peter when he did. The billionaire waited at the door, listening to the silence of the house for the first indication of where the boy might be, and he smiled when he heard the squeak of a sneaker on the dining room floor. Turning that direction, he saw Peter coming through the entrance and into the living room. The younger man was in sweats (his jeans didn’t actually fit, any longer and he refused to have Tony buy him a larger size because it was a concession that he didn’t want to make) and a baggy t-shirt that actually had come from Tony’s closet, since Peter’s were uncomfortably snug, too. Nothing fit but his shoes, he complained, and that meant that sweats were the outfit of the day, most days.

“Hey.” He was over the tired phase, now, and it showed. His eyes were bright and cheerful – for the most part – but they lit up when Tony pulled the flowers from where he’d been hiding them behind his back. “What’s this?”

Tony smiled, and handed them over. A beautiful arrangement of wildflowers and tulips, which he knew were Peter’s favorite.

“Nothing. I just thought I’d bring you something. To brighten your day.”

The boy’s smile made it worth the small effort of going to the flower shop at the bottom of the building next to the tower, dealing with the gawking customers and the florist who kept asking him what the person he was buying for liked, and what their coloring was, all kinds of things of like that. He didn’t know if she was fishing for information – to find out who he was buying them for – or if she just wanted to make sure the arrangement ended up being perfect, but he was pleased with the results, and clearly Peter was, as well.

“Thank you.”

He took them and immediately stuck his nose into them, closing his eyes and enjoying the gentle fragrance of the flowers.

The older man felt smug, and was pleased with himself, even though the idea hadn’t – exactly – been his own. He’d been reading an article on his tablet that morning (another one about what to expect when expecting – and definitely _online_ , since no one could watch what he was doing on the web with FRIDAY keeping track of him) and had been reminded by the author of the article that an expectant mother was bound to feel uncertain about her looks, or her desirability to her mate, especially when she began to gain weight. Peter was a little thicker, now, and while he hadn’t complained, Tony wanted to keep his spirits up – especially since he was so isolated from the rest of the world. So, flowers.

“You’re welcome. Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

The boy’s cheeks reddened, adorably.

“I’ll go put them in some water.”

He knew the entire estate, by now, of course, and knew where there was a vase that would compliment them. Tony followed him into the kitchen, shedding his suit jacket and draping it over the back of the sofa as he did.

“Have you started dinner?”

“No. FRIDAY mentioned that you wanted me to wait.”

“I was thinking I’d make dinner, tonight.”

“That’d be nice.”

“Is there anything you don’t want?”

Meaning, was there anything that would make him throw up? Which would completely ruin the moment.

“No. I feel good.”

“Fajitas?”

“Sounds great. Can I help?”

“You can chop all the stuff I don’t want to.”

With a smile, Peter did just that, chopping onions and green and red peppers, while Tony grilled off some steak and then sliced it thin while they discussed what each had done that day. Tony’s day had been more eventful that Peter’s, of course, but he didn’t even have to pretend to be interested. They sat at the table, companionably, while they had dinner, and then Tony suggested that Peter looked like he needed a massage.

Peter felt pretty good, really, but the older man’s expressive eyes were dark with desire, and it made him shiver in anticipation.

“I could clean the kitchen,” he suggested, turning coy, and teasing.

“After,” Tony said, standing up and taking his hand. “Let me take care of you, first.”

Peter let him take him into Tony’s bedroom, and the billionaire walked him to the bed, but then stopped and gently eased Peter’s shirt over his head. The boy’s breasts were developing, now, and while they weren’t huge, they were a full handful, and Tony found himself drawn to them every time he saw them. He slid his palms against the nipples, carefully, watching Peter’s reaction so he would know how firm he could be, that evening. The nipples hardened, immediately, and Peter leaned into the touch.

“That feel good…”

“Yeah?” Tony bent his head and caught one in his mouth, suckling on it for a moment. “How about that?”

“Yes.”

Tony spent plenty of time with Peter’s breasts, and the boy enjoyed the attention. It felt good when he touched them, when he massaged them, and especially when he had his mouth on them, like he did, just then. He wondered how much bigger they would grow, and how hideous he’d look, but Tony had only mentioned how sexy he’d look.

Peter looked down to watch Tony suckle him, feeling a surge of pleasure go through him, both at the sensation and at the sight.

“What are you going to do when I start producing milk?” he asked, softly, running his fingers through Tony’s hair, gently requesting that he don’t stop any time soon.

“Exactly what I’m doing now,” was the reply – around a mouthful of nipple. “I’ve never had a lactating fetish, but I could see myself developing one for the duration…”

Peter made an approving noise, and slid his hand along Tony’s side, and then found the top button on his shirt and undid it.

“I want you naked, Tony…”

The older man smiled at the soft command, and pulled his mouth off Peter with a wet, slurping, noise. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off, and Peter took advantage of his arms being tangled to lean in and taste _Tony’s_ nipple. Now it was Stark who ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, watching him switch from one, to the other, and then back, again. His breath caught, though, when Peter’s hand went down his belly and lower, cupping the swelling in the front of his slacks, and sliding his hand along Tony’s erection for a moment, and then working his zipper and fastener, and sliding them down and off – along with his boxers, and freeing his cock, which was eager and hard.

“Fuck, Peter…” Tony moaned when the younger man turned his attention from his nipples and slid his tongue along the throbbing length. “That’s so good.”

The boy made another approving noise and eased himself into a more comfortable position sitting on the edge of Tony’s bed as he began to suck on him, alternating between licking him, sucking him, and playing with his balls. Tony watched, giving him the chance to have his way with him, but after several long moments finally had to pull back, freeing his cock with an almost apologetic look at his young lover.

“I want to be inside you,” he murmured, leaning over and kissing Peter, before pushing him, gently, backward onto the bed and hooking his fingers into the waist of Peter’s sweats. “You’re good with that?”

“I could be talked into it,” Peter told him, smiling up at him, eyes dark and eager, but his expression also happy, as if he was surprised that Tony wanted him so badly, and pleased at the realization that he definitely did.

It made Tony happy, too, and he tossed the sweats aside and bent to take Peter’s drooling cock into his mouth, even as he reached for the lube that was on the stand next to the bed.

There was something to be said for a little pre-planned seduction, after all, and the person that wrote that article was a genius. Next time, he’d bring flowers _and_ chocolates. Especially if it made Peter so happy.


	14. 14

_“Peter just fell…”_

“What?” The car could self-drive if needed, and FRIDAY took control of the wheel and the accelerator when Tony froze at the announcement. “He fell?”

_“Correct. He’s already getting to his feet.”_

“Is he alright?” He scowled at the dash of the expensive sportscar. “Give me back control, or get me home, now.”

Deciding that Stark wasn’t in the right mindset to drive himself, the AI sped the car up, but never relinquished control of the steering or the gas pedal.

_“Calling Peter, now.”_

It also knew that Tony would want to talk to him, of course. He was on his way home – was almost there, even – but he couldn’t wait that long to make sure everything was alright.

_“Tony?”_

The voice sounded slightly breathless, but the billionaire couldn’t hear anything that told him there was a problem.

“Peter? You fell? Are you alright?”

_“I think I just stood up too fast,”_ came the reply. _“I got a little dizzy and off-balance. I landed on the carpeted area, and nothing hurts, or anything. I’m sitting on the couch, now.”_

“I’m on my way home. Stay where you are.”

_“I’m fine,”_ Peter assured him. _“Don’t speed, or do anything reckless.”_

How well he knew him.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The call ended. “Call Stephen Strange,” Stark said.

He might be over reacting, but he couldn’t help himself. Besides, it was Friday, and the doctor had planned to be out to the estate for a regular checkup with Peter, anyway. They could have it a day early and make sure everything was really alright.

><>><><><><

Peter was sitting on the sofa when Tony came barreling into the house. The older man tossed his jacket aside and hurried over, his entire being obviously taut with concern.

“I’m okay,” Peter assured him, as he crouched down beside him. “I am.”

Tony’s hand went to the gentle swelling that marred Peter’s formerly lean midsection.

“The baby?”

“Nothing hurts. I’m sorry.”

The door opened with a quick knock, and Stephen Strange entered with a bit less fanfare, but looking just as concerned. He was carrying his portable ultrasound machine, but when he walked over, his intense gaze looked Peter over for any outward sign of discomfort.

“He fell,” Tony said – although he’d already told the other man that when he’d called him on the phone on the way home.

“Yes. Peter? What happened?”

“I just got a little dizzy when I went to get up to start dinner.”

“How do you feel, now?” he asked, brushing his palm against the boy’s forehead, and looking into his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

“Did you land face down?”

“No, I twisted a little and was able to land on my knees.”

“Good.” Strange looked at Tony, and frowned. “Don’t look so concerned, Tony,” he said. “Dizziness is common at 19 weeks. Peter needs to be more careful – especially since he’s already off balance because of the extra weight he’s been gaining – just get up slowly, from now on.” He looked at the younger man. “Understood?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Since I’m here, let’s just doublecheck and make sure the baby’s developing on schedule.”

“Good idea.”

Tony wanted the baby checked, so he wasn’t arguing.

Peter got up – carefully – and Tony moved to walk beside him, hand automatically going to his hip to support him. Unnecessary, but appreciated – and not missed by Strange. They walked over to the dining table, and Peter climbed onto it, with less and less grace every week, it seemed. He pulled his shirt off to allow the doctor better access to his belly, and Strange put examination gloves on reached for his ever-present gel.

“Your breasts are getting larger.”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down at them. “I’m not ready for a bra, yet, but I think it’s going to end up being a thing.”

“They’ll shrink back to regular size, eventually,” the doctor promised. “You might have some interesting stretch marks, but maybe not. It’ll depend on the elasticity of your skin. Drink plenty of water.”

Peter nodded and he and Tony watched as Strange spread gel on Peter’s stomach. The display on the ultrasound machine never came on because FRIDAY lowered the dining area display, instead. It always gave a clearer picture of the baby that was forming, and allowed them all to see how things were going. Tony and Peter didn’t always recognize _what_ they were looking at, but they always had a good image of it.

“How does it look, Stephen?” Peter asked before Tony could.

“ _He_ looks fine, guys.” He smiled at the image. “Looks like he’s sucking on his hand.”

“ _He_?” Tony echoed. “Are you certain?”

The doctor pointed at the display, careful not to smear gel on it.

“That isn’t another arm growing down there.”

Stark smiled, staring, and Peter hooked his arm around the billionaire’s, also looking at the display.

“You’re going to have a son,” he told the older man.

“Congratulations,” Strange said. “I hope he’s just like you.”

Tony frowned.

“That’s a horrible thing to wish on a man.”

The doctor didn’t look at all apologetic. Instead he smirked, and shrugged.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll inherit _Peter’s_ good nature, instead of your reckless tendencies.” He wiped the boy’s belly and took off his gloves, turning off the machinery, while FRIDAY made a few still images of the picture on the display and then turned it off, as well. “At any rate, he looks perfect. And certainly none the worse for Peter’s fall.”

“Thank you.”

Strange looked at Peter.

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“How is your appetite?”

“Better.”

“He’s eating more,” Tony added. “That’s normal, right?”

“Yes. Any weird cravings, yet?”

“I’m kind of on a peanut butter kick, right now.”

“He mixed it in with his oatmeal this morning,” Stark added, still smiling about the revelation they’d had. “I thought I was going to throw up.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Peter assured the doctor, rolling his eyes, amused.

“It was cinnamon and sugar oatmeal…”

“Yeah, that’s disgusting,” Strange agreed, also amused. “Get used to it, though. There’s a thought that a woman will develop cravings for the craziest things, just to make sure her husband still loves her enough to go find it. Peter might be more sensible, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Tony didn’t look concerned.

“If he wants it, I’ll find it for him.”

“Good.” The doctor put his things away. “Your baby can hear things, now, and feel when he’s being touched. Spend time with him. Talk to him, and touch him. Get him used to your voices.”

“We will.”

“And now that autumn is coming, I want you to make sure all of your flooring is dry and clean – especially if Peter’s been out walking outside when it rains – or when it begins to snow, later. A single fall like he just took isn’t a big deal, really – despite how frightened you were – but we don’t want it to possibly happen while you’re further away, or where he might land harder than he did.”

“I’ll make sure of it. Anything else?”

“Plenty of exercise for Peter, here – and it wouldn’t hurt you to get some, too. You’re going to be running like a madman when his third trimester starts and he begins to get big. Might as well get yourself into shape.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my shape…”

Pleased that he’d had a chance to make a dig at the billionaire, Strange smirked, again.

“I’m going home. You both have my number if you need me.”

“Thanks for coming,” Peter said, reaching for his shirt.

“You’re welcome.”

The doctor picked up his things and walked toward the door, but he vanished right before he would have opened it.

“That’s uncanny,” Peter said, shaking his head.

It wasn’t the first time that Strange had done it – and Peter was glad for the ability, since he knew it would have been at least an hour longer for him to have arrived – but it was a reminder that the man lived in a different reality than they did.

“Yes. He’s an uncanny guy. But I’m glad he came. I feel better.”

“So do I.”

Tony slid his hand along the slight swelling of Peter’s baby.

“Do you feel him moving, yet?”

“No.” They both knew from their reading that it would be a little while, still, probably, so they weren’t worried. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t look quite as panicked as he had.

“Yeah, honey.” Tony leaned in and kissed him, lightly, and then bent down, further, and brushed a kiss against that bump. “Why don’t you go relax and I’ll make us dinner?”

“I can help.”

“You can supervise,” Tony conceded. “From a sitting position.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue.

“Can we have goulash?”

Ugh.

“Yes.”

If that was what Peter and the baby wanted, then that’s what they’d have.


	15. 15

“If anyone had told me last Thanksgiving that this is where I’d be in a year, I would have told them they were crazy.”

Tony smiled at Peter, but he nodded.

“Absolutely.” He reached for one of Peter’s feet, and put it in his lap so he could massage the foot, ankle, and calf – all of which were cramping, occasionally, and bothering the younger man. “Did you want anything else to eat?”

The billionaire had wanted to do something special for Peter for Thanksgiving. Despite being without family, and having very few friends, Peter wasn’t antisocial, and the isolation of being at the estate continually without anyone but Tony and Strange (and FRIDAY) to interact with was hard, he was sure. The boy never complained about it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling lonely, at times, and Tony was doing everything that he could to make it less of a prison than it probably seemed to be. Especially when you add into things that he had breasts that ached, sometimes, his belly was beginning to show a bit more, and his back and legs would cramp up at times.

Tony was attentive to Peter’s needs. He was constantly massaging him. Back, shoulders, legs, and breasts. Anything that ached, he’d oil it up and rub it until it didn’t hurt quite so much. He spent time with Peter’s head in his lap, too, with his hand caressing that faint swelling of the boy’s belly, talking to the baby and to Peter, and giving the baby a chance to learn something about his father before he even made his arrival into the world.

When he’d mentioned Thanksgiving to Peter, he’d asked him what his traditional meal was. Did he usually have turkey and potatoes, like the majority of the people? Or was his preference something more exotic? Or _less_ exotic? Did he want to have the meal cooked? Or catered? Would the smell of cooking upset his stomach?

Peter was over the morning sickness stage, and had been for a while, now, but sometimes a scent or and odor would still make him turn green around the gills, and Tony wanted Thanksgiving to be restful for him, not a hardship. Peter had preferred a ham, rather than turkey, but added that maybe a turkey breast? Just because he was suddenly craving some white meat with turkey gravy over it. And mashed potatoes. And more gravy. And yams. With marshmallows on them. And green bean casserole? He’d never actually had it, but it looked good. And bread. And some cranberry sauce – and maybe a few chicken nuggets?

Tony had rolled his eyes, amused at the proof that Peter was definitely getting some of those cravings that Stephen (and all of the books) talked about, and had brushed a tender kiss against Peter’s temple – and then the corner of his mouth.

“We’ll get it catered, then, and I’ll go pick it up Wednesday night so all we need to do on Thursday is heat everything that needs to be heated. Do you want pie?”

Had he wanted pie? How could it be Thanksgiving without pie?

“Pumpkin. And banana cream? And ice cream. And whatever you want.”

The meal had been as eclectic as any that Stark had ever had, but the caterers had been first class, and had made sure that everything was perfect when Tony went and picked it up. They’d even explained how long to heat anything, and how best to utilize anything that was left over, for sandwiches, casseroles, and even how to incorporate some items into breakfast the next few mornings. Tony had been invited to eat dinner with Rhodey, who clearly didn’t want his friend to be pining away alone in his apartment over the holiday weekend, but the billionaire had winked, exaggerating, and mentioned that he was entertaining and definitely had all the company that he needed – or _wanted_. He thanked him for the invitation, and had then gone to pick up their dinner and had gone home to Peter.

Now dinner was done, the leftovers were in the fridge and the pies were waiting to be cut into, but Peter was full, and he and Tony were ready to sit and relax with some downtime. They watched traditional holiday movies while Tony rubbed the boy’s feet and legs, and then allowed his hands to roam the rest of Peter’s body. The contract noted, explicitly, that after Peter was pregnant any sex between the two of them was non-compulsory. Of course. But Peter was sexy and young, and Tony had been attracted to him before he’d become pregnant. Add in the fact that the boy was throwing a million different pheromones out there? And that he was carrying Tony’s baby? It was even more exciting. He was addicted to the soft moans that Peter made when Tony was sucking his cock, or his nipples, or when he had himself deep inside the boy’s ass. Giving Peter pleasure made the older man harder than he could ever remember being – even with the help of those little blue pills – and Peter never complained or rejected his advances.

Even with a belly full of Thanksgiving ham, turkey, and all of the sides, Peter was more than willing when the foot massage turned into more, right there on the sofa and in front of the Christmas Story. The boy was very much aware that his time with Tony was finite, and that he was probably crazy for allowing himself to become addicted to the man, but he couldn’t help it. Tony was attentive, beautiful, brilliant, and extremely good at making Peter feel good. And he had a _pretty cock_ – of course. Peter spent as much time as he could with Tony’s cock in his mouth, teasing it, tasting it, and lavishing attention on it. He ignored the fact that the day was going to come when the baby was born, and Tony would be focused on him, rather than on Peter, and that two months and a few weeks after that, the contract would end – and so would their relationship. Peter would be a male, only, again, and Tony and his son would go on with their lives without him.

It was the contract, and he understood, completely, why it had to be that way.

It made him ache, though, sometimes, to think of that, but he hid that moodiness behind the hormones and blamed the tears that would form on the pregnancy, and not on his reflections of what would inevitably happen after it was all over. He’d have plenty of money, and could finish school and still have a fortune left over. Could travel. Or – like Stephen had said – buy himself some tropical getaway and never have to leave it. He tried to distance himself. He always made sure to refer to the baby as Tony’s son and never used a possessive _mine_ when mentioning him. He decided that he’d ignore what was going to come, in favor of living for the moment – since he was going to only have the memories of these moments, when their contract was complete.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked him, in the aftermath of their thanksgiving loving. He was once more holding Peter – who was now as naked as he was – and had his palm splayed on the boy’s belly, again, caressing his son, now that he was finished pleasuring his young lover. “You look like you’re distracted. Am I losing my touch?”

Peter smiled up at him, resting has hand on Tony’s.

“You were amazing,” he assured him. He had to know, though, of course. Peter had climaxed more than once under Tony’s ministrations. “I was just thinking about Christmas,” he lied. “Wondering what to give the man who has everything.”

“You’re already giving him to me,” Stark pointed out, his thumb brushing Peter’s belly. “But since you brought it up, is there anything that you want?”

“I would like a Christmas tree…” he admitted. “It isn’t something that I’ve done for years, really, and I think it would be nice.”

“I think it would be, too. A real one? Or out of a box?”

“I’ll let you decide. But I get to help decorate it.”

“Fair enough.” Stark leaned over and kissed him. “Do you think it’s too early to start putting together a nursery? Is that something that you’d be interested in doing with me?”

Another pang, but he hid that ache, and smiled, instead. He’d get to see the nursery, after all. For a couple of months.

“I’d love to. Thank you.”

“You have better taste than I do,” Tony reminded him, also smiling. “You can decide how we’ll decorate it.”

“Not an Ironman theme?”

“Maybe the one at the apartment, when I move us back to the city. But not here. This one should be more traditional. Baby animals, and pastels. Not red and gold and metal.”

“We can start looking at online catalogues,” Peter suggested. “You should definitely have a hand in things.”

“Sounds good.”


	16. 16

“You look tired.”

Stark nodded his agreement with that statement, reaching for a pen on his desk and fiddling with it.

“Because I _am_.”

“You _always_ look tired, lately,” Pepper added. “Are you still working on whatever that secret project is – or did you finish it?”

He smiled.

“No. It’s still a work in progress.”

“How long until you reveal it to the rest of the world?”

He knew that she was assuming that the big secret was a new, bigger, better Ironman suit. The _Avengers_ were almost certainly assuming the same thing, most likely – and with good reason. He _was_ working n a new suit – he always had a new idea in the back of his mind, and was always pushing the envelope of technology, trying to find something that would solve any issues that came up with the newest suit, to put into the even newer incarnation.

“A good estimate is about three months.”

“So long?”

“Another month of development, and then two months or so of testing – which reminds me, I’m going to be taking three months off, completely, and I need you to figure out how to make that work.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow.

“Three _months_?” she echoed. “Starting when?”

“March 1st.”

Peter was large, now, and only expected to get bigger during the next month. The baby was perfectly formed, Stephen told them – and had shown them – and the last three months of the pregnancy were to allow him the chance to grow, and get his organs ready to support him when he was delivered. Stark felt a shiver of anticipation; Stephen had decided that March 4th was going to be the delivery date. The baby was going to be ready, by then, and keeping him in the womb longer than that would only risk complications.

That was less than a month away, now, Tony had been attentive to Peter, before, he was even more careful with the younger man, now. With the ungainly weight he was carrying around, he ached all the time, and was uncomfortable. The boy wasn’t that large to begin with, and the added weight might not seem like much, but he’d gained almost twenty-five pounds – and was expected to gain several more before the due date. His breasts were bigger, too, and Peter had ruefully asked Tony to buy him some bras. Of course, the boy had no idea what size he would need, and had relied on Tony’s expertise with the women that he’d occasionally dated.

“Black lace?” he’d suggested that evening, his thumb sliding along the taut nipple.

Peter had rolled his eyes, replying that white cotton was all he needed, but since Tony seemed so interested in the black lace, he decided that maybe a black one, just to see if the different fabric would be more comfortable. It turned out that it didn’t really make a difference to Peter, but Tony liked the black one, and Peter was willing to wear it more than the others.

His nipples had begun leaking a yellowish fluid only a few days before, now, and the books (and Stephen) informed them that it was the precursor to the milk that Peter would begin producing to nourish the baby.

“It doesn’t _taste_ like milk, though,” Tony had pointed out – to _Peter_. He’d tried it (after confirming with those same books and articles that it wasn’t poisoned, or something) and it had been exciting to both men. “It’s not bad…” he added, moving his mouth to the other nipple and suckling, gently, helping Peter get ready for the actions of the baby, and enjoying it, himself, too.

Milk would soon be coming, they knew, and so would the baby, but they were preparing everything in many ways. Tony was methodical, after all, and Stephen Strange equally so. The doctor procured a couple of realistic newborn dolls and had given them to the two men. There were diapers, onesies, bibs, a tiny bathtub, and tons of other accoutrements that they would have the chance to practice using with the dolls before the baby made his arrival. The goal being that both men would be more comfortable with the idea of changing little diapers and giving baths, and even just holding him.

Tony had spent another evening putting together the furniture for the nursery that had once been the guestroom closest to Tony’s master bedroom. Peter had painted it a light blue over a few days, which had given him something to do during the day while Tony was gone, and then he and Tony had pored over online catalogues and ordered all the things that they would need for the baby’s room. The crib had been tricky, since the instructions had been only in Chinese, but Tony had pointed out that he’d built the first Ironman suit in a cave, he could put together a crib, a changing table, dresser, and shelving without any problem.

Which hadn’t been the case, and Peter had been forced to hold his aching side as he smothered his laughter watching as the engineer and his high-tech AI squabbled over which slot went into which tab, and in what order. Eventually the furniture was up and ready, but Peter was wiping tears of mirth from his cheeks. Tony had scowled, pretending to be annoyed, as he put his tools away and then moved the pieces to their proper places in the room. It had only made Peter snort, still amused. Tony had told Peter that just for that, he expected Peter to make him dinner that night. Which was fine with the boy.

Having nothing else to do for over eight months, now, while isolated on the estate, Peter had become a very good cook, had taught himself to play the piano, and could now speak Italian almost fluently – helped by the fact that FRIDAY could assist with the conversational part of the study. He enjoyed cooking, and Tony was the beneficiary of those online cooking lessons that Peter had taken. The last few months Tony would come home to meals that were getting better and better as Peter became more confident with the ingredients he was using. He didn’t feel like cooking every day – especially lately – but those days Tony would either bring food home, or he would cook something for the two of them.

After dinner, they’d spend time, together, with Tony caressing the baby bump while he talked to Peter – or to the baby – and sometimes they would spend time in the indoor pool because the water supported the extra weight Peter was carrying. The boy wouldn’t go in the water unless Tony was home with him – something that Stephen and Tony both approved of – but he enjoyed the exercise that the pool provided him and it was always nice to have Tony join him. Even more, really, since they neither one actually wore swimwear. Tony Stark, naked and wet? Yum. Not surprisingly, the times that they swam together almost always ended with the two showering together and then spending the rest of the evening enjoying careful but intense sex that always left them dozing in each other’s arms.

It was domestic and mundane – especially for someone like Stark, who would never have expected such a turn in his life – and it was fulfilling to both of them. The baby was coming, yes, but this time that they had to prepare for it was calm, and enjoyable, and so tender.

Now that they had a set time, though, Tony was in the final planning stages, and he had every intention of being with Peter and his son from the day the baby was born until Peter was turned back to full male status and had taken the extra weeks to recover from the ordeal and allowed to leave the estate. That wasn’t something that Tony was looking forward to, of course – he was self-aware enough to know that he was well and truly hooked on the boy, by then, but although they definitely enjoyed their physical relationship, Peter didn’t make any comments or indications that he was hooked on Tony, too. He often mentioned the baby, of course, but called him Tony’s son, and never their son. Often mentioned the future things that Tony would do with the child, but had never once commented in any way that had Peter in that future, as well.

Stark could understand. Peter was a prisoner, basically, despite how hard the billionaire was working at making sure that it wasn’t an unbearable prison, and Tony was sure that he was counting the days until the contract was complete and he would be allowed to leave. Tony ached at the thought of losing him, even as he was excited at the idea of having the baby. A contract was a contract, though, and Stark knew contracts better than anyone.

There was no loophole that would allow Peter to stay – even if the boy wanted to.

“Three months is a long time, Tony…” Pepper said, drawing the man’s attention back to the conversation at hand. She frowned, suddenly. “You’re not building a bomb, or something, are you? Or something weird in a lab?”

“Of course not.” He set the pen aside. “We’ll need to make sure you have complete voting authority,” he told her. “I want you to draw up a document that makes you Stark Industry’s temporary CEO for the duration of my absence.”

An eyebrow went up.

“CEO?”

“ _Temporary_ CEO,” he reminded her. “I need the time off, but I want you running it while I’m gone, because I’d like to have a company to come back to – and you’re the best choice, by far.”

The praise wasn’t something that she was used to getting from him – especially when it was so sincere. She wondered what he was really doing, but knew that he wasn’t going to tell her, and that she would have to wait until he was ready.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Starting March 1st.”

“Right.”

“But you _are_ , eventually, going to tell me what you’re doing?”

“You’ll be one of the first to know,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby comes in the next chapter!


	17. 17

Stephen Strange MD was a lot of things. He was a powerful master of the mystical arts. A highly educated man with extremely good fashion sense. Confident. A little cocky, maybe. Self-assured and a bit of a megalomaniac. He was not, however, cocky and self-assured enough to risk Peter or the baby by attempting a C-section alone. Measures had to be made, of course, but there was no way he’d even consider going into a procedure that – while fairly common since more than 30% of all births in the states were done this way – was still a surgery and there was always a chance that a complication could come up. There needed to be a surgical team, he told Tony and Peter, as the day of the delivery loomed on the horizon. One for Peter, and one for the baby.

It didn’t need to be an army, of course, but more than just him. He picked the teams, himself. Four people – and him – would be responsible for bringing Tony Stark’s son into the world. All four of them were highly skilled at their profession, were going to be paid very well for assisting in a procedure that would last no more than ten minutes for the delivery team and a half an hour for the team that would work on Peter after, and all of them signed a strict nondisclosure agreement. Even then, though, none of them would know exactly what was going on.

Peter was prepped before any of the others arrived. Tony was wearing surgical scrubs, a puffy blue surgical hat that covered his hair, even, and a mask that made it next to impossible for anyone to recognize him. Peter, laying on the table, was in sweats that were slung lower than the norm but would keep anyone from happening to get a glance at his penis if the coverings should slip during the procedure, and his face and head were wrapped in gauze, which obstructed anyone’s view of his own features. His upper body had been completely shaved and while his shoulders were fairly muscular, the breasts and impossibly large belly were definitely female, and none of the doctors even looked twice.

The boy was hooked up to an IV before the newcomers had arrived, as well, and he was fairly calm. He was given an epidural, so he couldn’t feel anything below his armpits, really, and Tony held his hand as they listened in as the two doctors, the two nurses, and Stephen Strange did a quick run through of what they were going to do before they actually began. Another, smaller, table was rolled up with all the necessary items that would be needed for the baby – including emergency equipment that would hopefully not even be looked at.

Everyone was wearing surgical garb, now, and the room was sterile and safe. It might not have been possible in a regular guest room like the one they were in, but the brain surgeon was a sorcerer, right? A wave of his hand that he hid as he finished draping the last covering over Peter’s chest made sure there wasn’t anything in the room that might put Peter in danger.

“Are we ready?” Strange asked the others.

The medical staff all nodded. Strange looked at Tony, and he squeezed Peter’s hand, almost painfully, and he nodded, as well. Peter’s eyes were all that anyone could really see, but the boy nodded under his bandages, and Stephen oved to the bottom of the table, out of the way but right where he could assist when he was needed.

A single, effortless, slice that made Tony blanche – even though Peter didn’t feel it – and then another, shorter, one, and the nurse from the baby team was suddenly being handed a small blue-gray creature that was scaley and covered in goo and some blood. She took him, holding him steady as the doctors clamped the cord and picked up a pair of surgical scissors, looking at Tony.

“Do you want to cut the cord, Mr. Steele?”

It wasn't Stark, of course, but no sense hiding his features and using his real name, right? With a hand that shook a little, despite his best intentions, Tony took the scissors and cut the cord. For good or for bad, his son was breathing for himself, now, and his own body was going to have to do the important things that Peter’s had been doing the last nine months.

The nurse whisked the baby away, followed by the baby team doctor, and the two assigned to Peter began cleaning out the womb, and clearing the placenta and all of the gross things that Tony didn’t want to watch. Instead, still holding Peter’s hand, he watched as they cleaned the baby with thick, warmed, towels and cleared lungs that were fully developed by still hadn’t actually sucked in a breath of air.

“Is he alright?” Tony asked, his voice harsh with excitement, nervousness, and concern.

“He’s perfect,” the nurse replied. The man had some kind of suction device up the little nostrils, clearing mucus, and then there was suddenly a thin wail of protest at the semi-rough treatment as he was cleaned of all of the membranes that had been protecting his skin from the amniotic fluids during the pregnancy. “There he goes. Sometimes it takes a little longer in C-section babies, because the birth canal isn’t squeezing the liquid out during the passage through it.”

Ugh. That was more than Tony wanted to know. He looked down at Peter.

“He’s crying…” he said. “Do you hear it?”

Peter nodded, but he didn’t say anything. Not because he wasn’t supposed to, but because he was shocked by how quickly it had happened. He turned his head to watch them work on the baby, too, and now they were measuring and weighing and checking all of the important parts to make sure they were all there. Finally, the still squalling baby was wrapped in a blue blanket, a blue baby hat was put on his head, and the nurse looked at Tony.

“Do you want to hold him?”

After a month of handling the doll in every situation they could think of, Tony was fairly confident when he took the baby from the nurse’s arms, but he was still awed when he looked down at the screaming baby. And he frowned.

“Stephen… his eyes are blue. What the _hell_?”

Strange had been watching as the doctor was putting the last stitches in Peter’s lower abdomen. The brain surgeon, and all four of the others looked over at the baby, but it was Peter who spoke up, weakly.

“They’ll change in a week, or two…” he said. “The book said that he could have blue eyes to start.”

“She’s right,” one of the doctors agreed. “It’s common.”

“They’re _pretty_ , though,” said a nurse, smiling when the baby suddenly burped and seemed to startle himself enough to stop crying. “Maybe he’ll keep them.”

“No one in my family has blue eyes…”

None of the doctors looked concerned, and despite his complaint, Tony smiled, looking at the little being that he was holding. He was perfect. A shock of dark hair that had been smoothed into a forward sweep across that forehead, and a cute little nose, and fat cheeks and a chin that looked a lot like the one Tony saw every time he shaved.

“He’s beautiful, Bob,” Strange said, looking over Tony’s shoulder at the baby, now that Peter was taken care of and the incision had been closed.

Stark didn’t even roll his eyes at the fake name. He was vaguely aware of Peter’s bed being raised up so the boy was in a carefully upright position.

“Yeah he is,” Tony agreed. He looked at Peter, tilting the baby a little so Peter could see, too. “He’s amazing.”

They couldn’t see Peter’s smile through the gauze covering his features, but the brown eyes that Tony loved so much looked at the baby, and then back up at Tony.

“I filled out most of the birth certificate,” one of the doctors said, setting a piece of official-looking paper on the stand nearest the bed. “You’ll have to finish it within two weeks.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Strange assured him. He looked at all of the doctors and nurses, and at the machinery that was monitoring Peter. “Does everything look in the green?”

“It went as smooth as I’ve ever seen one,” one of the nurses said.

Which was exactly why they’d been there; to make sure that happened.

Strange looked at Tony.

“I’ll show them out, and then will come back to finalize everything and help you get Andrea settled a bit more.”

“Thanks.”

_Andrea_. Tony shook his head as the medical personnel filed out with a final round of congratulations and the door closed behind Stephen.

“Ready to hold him?” Tony asked Peter, who started unwrapping the bandages from his head.

“Let me finish this,” Peter replied. He couldn’t help but look at the baby, though, and his expression was a mixture of a million different emotions, and Stark couldn’t recognize any of them, just then. “He’s so little.”

“He’s perfect,” Stark said. “Just like you.”

The boy smiled, and his eyes were suddenly bright with unshed tears.

“Can I hold him?”

“Of course.” The baby was passed from Tony to Peter. “Support his head, remember…”

“I know.” Peter’s expression was tender. “Hi, baby… it’s good to finally meet you.”

“How do you feel?” Tony asked, reaching down and running his fingertip along the baby’s cheek. “Do you hurt?”

“I don’t feel anything.”

Strange walked through the door, just then, and he smiled at the scene that he’d interrupted.

“You can take the mask off, Tony,” the doctor said. “The incision is closed, and the baby is healthy.”

Not that there was absolutely no chance of an infection, or something, but the risk was minimal – and Strange had every intention of sticking around for a while to monitor Peter’s progress, and to keep an eye on the baby.

Stark did as he was told.

“It happened so fast…” he said, looking from the baby over to the doctor.

“It doesn’t take long,” Strange agreed. “You did great, though.”

Of course, neither of them really had much to do, as far as the delivery.

“So now does Peter try feeding the baby?”

“Peter? How do you feel?”

“I’m okay. There was some pressure… and it felt odd.”

“Think you’re up to breastfeeding?” Strange asked. “He doesn’t need to nurse, this minute, if you want to get some rest, first.”

“No, we can try.”

Without being asked for help – although Peter needed it – Tony wet his thumb, and then reached down and brushed it against Peter’s left nipple. It hardened, instantly, and the younger man guided the baby’s mouth to it, awkward in his motions, despite having practiced it with the dolls. The real thing was a little more animated, after all, even swaddled like he was. Luckily, he knew what to do, and his mouth clamped onto the nipple without hesitation. Peter gave a soft sound that might have been discomfort, and then relaxed. White, foamy, milk appeared around the baby’s mouth as he suckled.

“He’s messy,” Tony said, watching, intently.

“He’s a genius,” Peter replied, smiling. “Figured it out on the first try.”

Strange smiled, too, and then reached for the birth certificate.

“We should get this filled out, guys, so no one forgets. Do you have a name picked out?”

Peter looked at Tony, because he hadn’t brought up the question, at all – short of knowing that Tony had no intention of naming the baby Anthony Stark junior.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Stark nodded, his finger once more finding that little cheek, but his son was preoccupied with his dinner, and didn’t look up at the touch.

“I’m going to name him Benjamin.”


	18. 18

Peter’s expression was surprised, and then changed into something Tony couldn’t interpret.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“It’s a good name,” Stark told him. “Strong, and easy to shorten if I want to.

“It’s a good choice,” Stephen agreed. “Middle name?”

“Howard.”

“Benjamin Howard Stark,” Strange said. “That’s good.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“What name did you and your AI come up with for the mother?”

Tony and Peter had discussed the mother section of the birth certificate when the time came. Obviously, it wasn’t going to say Peter Parker, but there was always a chance that someone in the future (near or far) might do a DNA test – maybe even Benjamin, himself – and they didn’t want there to be any confusion that might keep the boy from being able to prove his heritage. Instead, FRIDAY had created a twin sister for Peter. That way when something came up somehow connecting Peter to his child, there would be a reason.

It wasn’t expected, of course, but Tony was methodical enough to cover every eventuality, and he didn’t want to make things hard on his son when he was older.

“Libby Parker,” Tony replied. “Same date of birth as Peter, obviously, and date of death will be today.”

Death in childbirth wasn’t as common as it had been in the past, of course, but it _did_ still happen, and it would be a good explanation for Benjamin when he was older and began asking about his absent mother.

“Your AI is going to take care of all of that?” the doctor asked.

“Yeah. It’s done, really, we were just waiting for today.”

A line of milk drooled down from Benjamin’s mouth and along Peter’s side. The men all looked, and smiled. The baby had fallen asleep while nursing.

“Go ahead and take him, Tony,” Strange ordered. “I’m going to settle Peter a little better.”

The billionaire reached for his son, his expression tender as he cuddled the infant, patting him lightly on the back to soothe and burp him if he needed it.

“What’s the plan?”

“Since Peter’s already numb, I’m going to put a catheter in.” He looked at the boy. “You’re confined to this bed for at least the next five days.”

“I can’t stay in bed,” Peter protested. He’d known he would need some recovery time, but five days bed rest seemed a little excessive. “What if I need to poop, or something?”

“That isn’t a concern,” was the reply. “I’m going to be here, with you guys. If you make a mess, I’ll clean it, magically. Tony can handle Benjamin’s need – aside from feeding him, of course – but you need to stay in bed to give those sutures a chance to heal. We’ll move you as needed to avoid bedsores, but other than that, Tony and I will be your feet for you.”

He looked at Stark, who nodded his agreement.

“You need to rest while you can, honey,” he pointed out. “You’re responsible for feeding this little guy, and that means keeping your stamina up.”

With both of them in agreement Peter didn’t have any arguments to make. He took a warm washcloth that Stephen offered him so he could wipe his breast and side off.

“Alright…”

“It won’t be so bad,” Tony assured him. “I know you’re stuck in here…” meaning the guest room and not out in the living room where he could see everything that was going on. “But I’ll make sure there’s a larger display in here, and we’ll be in here all the time.”

He’d meant him and the baby, but Strange shook his head.

“Not all the time,” he disagreed. “I want him getting some rest. There’s a reason he’s not out in the main living areas. Plenty of time for him to help with the baby, later, once we don’t need to worry about his health.” He leveled his intense gaze at the younger man. “And I want you to pay attention to how you’re feeling.”

Peter frowned.

“Physically? Or emotionally?”

“Both. But depression is common in women after giving birth, and we want to keep that from being an issue, as much as we can.”

Tony and Peter had read about that, as well, of course.

“Alright,” Peter said, again.

He didn’t know what the two men could do to keep him from being depressed if it _happened_ , but there wasn’t any point in mentioning that.

“Good. Strange looked at Tony. “Take your son and spend some time bonding with him. I’ll take care of things in here.”

The billionaire did as he was told, cradling the baby carefully as he left the guestroom. He smiled, though, as he went out to the sofa and sat down, making sure the motion was smooth so as not to wake Benjamin.

“Do I call you Ben?” he asked, softly. “Benji? Benny?” He liked the name, and hadn’t chosen it only because the baby was part _Peter_ and he felt that he should recognize that. Calling him Peter hadn’t been an option, of course – he’d have named the baby _Anthony_ before he did that – but Benjamin was a good name that rolled off the tongue, and he’d been pleased at the decision. Especially when he’d been able to surprise Peter like he had. The boy had looked pleased by the choice, and that made Tony happy. “We’ll have to wait and see, I suppose,” he decided, looking down at the sleeping infant, amazed at how perfect he was.

Kind of wrinkly, still, but he was only a couple of hours old. Tony knew that he’d grow out of that.

><><><><><

“Any pain?” Stephen asked, tucking the blankets around Peter after he was finished getting him settled. “I admit it’s been a long time since I put a catheter in, so we can only hope that it’s in the right orifice.”

Peter smiled; the older man wasn’t usually one for making jokes, really, and it had been unexpected. He shrugged.

“Not right now. I can’t feel much of anything.”

“That’s normal.” He’d pulled the IV, so it was one less thing to worry about. “If the incision starts hurting you, make sure you tell me. I’m going to put you on antibiotics and low grade painkillers. It’ll take the edge off the ache, but won’t have any affect on your milk, so it’s safe for the baby.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you think you can sleep? I know it’s been a hectic day – and it’s early, yet – but you should rest while you can. It’s a lesson you and Tony will both need to learn, quickly, or you’ll wear yourselves out in the first couple of weeks.”

That was true, he knew.

“I’ll try. You’ll bring me the baby when he needs to be fed?”

“I’m certainly not going to try and feed him, myself.”

Another unexpected joke – and another smile.

“It’s not so bad.”

“Because you’ve had help preparing for it.”

The doctor didn’t ask for a lot of details in the private activities going on between Tony and Peter, but he knew that Tony had been suckling Peter’s breasts pretty much from the beginning. Whether it was only to make sure the transition to breastfeeding was a smooth and relatively painless one, or because the billionaire had a fetish for that sort of thing, it didn’t matter to Strange. He approved of anything that made things easier for Peter in this whole ordeal, and it definitely had.

“Yeah.” He wondered if that was done, now, that the baby was here, healthy and hale. Tony didn’t have any reason to play with him, now, did he? Peter’s milk was flowing just fine, apparently, and they already knew that sex was off the table for a while. Maybe for months, depending, and that meant maybe not again, since all that remained of the contract, now, was two months of breastfeeding to make sure Benjamin had the best start to his life that he could get, and then Peter would be changed back, and would have two weeks of recovery time, to make sure that he wasn’t suffering any ill-effects from the changes. “He’s been amazing, hasn’t he? Not at all like I thought he was before I met him.”

“He has a public image that he uses to keep people at bay,” Strange said. “I admit, I wasn’t completely certain of him, to begin with, but he’s proven that he’s willing to do whatever he needs to do to make this project work.”

“I know.”

“You two are good, together…”

Peter’s smile, now, wasn’t amused at all, and there was a definite sadness in his expression.

“He’s a nice guy. He’ll be a good father.”

“But not boyfriend material?”

“For the right person?” Peter asked. “Yes.”

“Not you?”

“No. Part of the contract – the main part of the contract after the whole baby making thing – is that I have to stay away.”

“From the baby.”

“From both of them.” He wiped the tear that was suddenly trickling down his cheek. “It makes sense, though. Tony can’t risk me being around and potentially being a challenger for custody. Not only would he lose Ben, but he’d also lose a lot of money, because I could sue for child support. I understood that when I agreed and signed on to this.”

“Peter…”

“It’s okay,” he said, brushing another tear. “He’ll be well taken care of, and Tony already loves him.”

“What about you?” Strange asked, a box of tissues appearing in his hand, which he gave to Peter. “You-“

“I’ll be fine,” the boy assured him. “I’ll find someplace out of the way – maybe a tropical island, somewhere, and finish school and become an engineer like I was going to before this all started.” He sniffed, wiping his eyes, and then forcing a self-deprecating chuckle. “I guess this is that post-partum depression you were warning us about, huh?”

The doctor knew that it wasn't – not completely – but he also knew that this wasn’t a conversation that _he_ should be having with Peter. Tony wasn’t a cruel man, and if he knew what was going on in the boy’s head and heart, then Strange was sure that he’d sit Peter down and have a discussion with him about perhaps making some kind of amendment to the contract. The next couple of months would still have the two working closely together to nurture Benjamin. Closer than even when they were conceiving him, really. Tony would notice, and would ask Peter about it, certainly.

“Yes, it probably is…” he agreed, deciding that Peter needed rest, and not him sticking his nose where it didn’t need to be, just then. He pulled the blankets up, a little, making sure the boy was warm. “Go to sleep, Peter. We’ll bring the baby in for a feeding in two hours, or so.”

Another sniff.

“Thank you, Stephen.”

He rolled, carefully, to his side a little to get more comfortable, and closed his eyes, and Strange let himself out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He walked into the main room, and saw Tony on the sofa, sleeping baby in his arms. Stark noticed him, as well – of course – and looked up.

“How is he, Stephen?”

“He’s resting.”

It was honestly all he could say, just then, wasn’t it?


	19. 19

Peter woke when Tony touched his cheek.

“Wake up, honey,” came the softly whispered command.

The boy opened his eyes, wincing when he rolled onto his back, but then holding still while he waited for the sharp pain to subside, and to allow himself to wake a little more. Enough to feel secure holding the squalling baby that Tony was carrying.

“Is he alright?” he asked, looking at him and then Stephen and then the baby, again.

“He’s fine,” came the reassurance. “We think he’s probably just hungry.”

They had read up on that, too. Really, they were as prepared as they could be, Peter was certain. Little stomachs could only hold so much, right? That meant multiple feedings a day – which was one of the reasons that Peter was being told to rest when he could. Tony or Stephen could bring the baby to him, but _he_ was going to be awake every couple of hours the next few weeks until the newborn settled into a routine, and was able to hold more milk in his belly to keep him satisfied longer. It was also a good way to give Peter a chance to heal up, so it worked out well.

He sat up, a little more, and lowered the blankets that were covering him and opened the robe that he was wearing.

“Here, let’s see.”

“Make sure to alternate which breast he uses,” Stephen reminded him.

“We don’t want you lopsided,” Tony added, smiling.

The boy smiled, too, and tweaked his nipple to tighten it, and then took Ben from his father. The infant cried, his little face red, and his hands in tiny little fists. Surely there had to be _something_ wrong? He was so unhappy. The crying stopped, immediately, though, as soon as he was presented the nipple, and he clamped on with a suction that was much more powerful than Peter would have thought possible until he’d actually felt it.

“Just hungry,” Strange said, smiling at the scene – and at the fact that both of the other men had looked so worried. He’d known it wasn’t anything serious, even though he’d be keeping a close eye on young Benjamin for the next couple of weeks, as well. “How does it feel, Peter?”

“It doesn’t hurt.” He slid a gentle fingertip along the dark hair, but Ben was distracted and didn’t respond to the touch. “He’s got a good grip, though.”

“I imagine it would hurt once he gets teeth,” Tony said, sitting himself on the edge of the bed that Peter was in, carefully.

“Yeah.” He looked at Tony, who looked a little tired. “Did you have any problems?”

“He slept for about an hour and then started fussing. I tried to let you get as much sleep as possible, but he was pretty insistent.”

“It’s fine,” Peter assured him. “You can go get some sleep if you need to. I can hold him for a while.”

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Stark told him. “But not yet. Stephen says that you need sleep, and he and I can take turns keeping Benji company so that you can get some rest.”

It would be easier, later, when there was a nanny, or a live-in babysitter – or whatever he was going to end up having. But he’d known what he was getting into, and he was used to missing out on sleep from time to time. This was a different reason than staying up late working on a new suit – or being out on a bender (which wasn’t something that he’d done in quite a while, now) but it was a much better reason.

Peter smiled.

“Is that what you’re going to call him?” he asked. “ _Benji_?”

Tony shrugged.

“I think so. Benjamin for when he’s in _trouble_ , Ben and Benji for when we’re lazing around the house.”

“He’s your son,” Strange pointed out. “He’ll almost certainly be in trouble quite often.”

><><><><><><

The next time feeding Tony brought Ben in, alone.

“Where’s Stephen?” Peter asked, taking the baby and holding him to his breast.

As he did, he noticed the front of Tony’s shirt was smeared with some kind of water stain.

Stark rolled his eyes.

“He’s allowing me the chance to do this by myself,” he replied. “So I can get more competent.”

“Oh. What happened to your shirt? Did Ben spit up on you?”

That was something they’d read about, too, of course. They’d immediately ordered a dozen burping towels to protect their clothing.

“No.” Now Tony scowled at the baby, who wasn’t paying attention to anything but the nipple he was latched onto. “He peed on me.”

“What?”

“I noticed that he stunk, so I put him on the changing table to check his diaper and the minute I opened it, he hit me with a stream of pee. I swear he did it on purpose.”

Peter smiled.

“He’s a little young to be vindictive, don’t you think?”

“It gets worse,” Tony said.

“How?”

“Some of it got on my _lip_ – and I think I tasted it.”

“Ugh.”

“I about threw up.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Peter said. “It’s not like he’s been drinking vodka, or something. He’s stuck with milk…”

“Oh, don’t even get me started about his _diet_ ,” the billionaire grumbled. “You wouldn’t believe what I found in that diaper – once I wiped my face with a million sanitizer wipes. It was the foulest, slimiest, and smelliest thing I’ve ever seen. Ever. I gagged so hard that I thought I was going to bring up a lung, or something.”

“That bad?”

“You’ll see.”

“Did you manage to change him?”

Peter didn’t smell anything, after all, and they _had_ practiced with the dolls and the tiny diapers until they both felt fairly competent with the idea of changing diapers and putting on baby clothes.

“Of course, I did.” He smiled, and his expression was smug, and proud. “Of course, I used an entire package of wipes and four pairs of gloves trying to get his butt clean, and the first diaper fell off when I picked him up, but I made it work.”

Peter smiled.

“Was it really that bad?”

“He had shit smeared all along his _back_ , Peter. It was so runny and gross, and I swear, if Stephen hadn’t been there, I’d have probably _cried_.”

“Did FRIDAY record it?”

Another eyeroll.

“Of course, she did. Stephen’s watched it a dozen times, already, and has threatened to blackmail me with the video. When you’re feeling up to it, ask her to play it for you.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No. Of course, when you’re doing _your_ first diaper, I’m going to have her record that, too, just so I don’t feel so bad.”

“Fair enough.”

The two men smiled at each other, and Tony wiped a line of milk from Benjamin’s mouth and along Peter’s side.

“He’s getting you messy.”

“At least it doesn’t stink.”

“True.” Stark brushed his fingertips along Peter’s cheek. “Are you hungry?”

“No. Sleepy, more than anything, really. But I just woke up, so I might not be tired…”

“Any pain?”

“A little. It isn’t too bad, though. Just an ache along the suture line – and some cramping inside.”

It was normal, though, and yet another thing that they’d read up on. Peter had a heating pad available if he wanted to use it, but it wasn’t unbearable.

“Do you mind if I stay in here, a while?” Tony asked. “If you’d rather go back to sleep, it’s fine.”

“No.” Peter smiled, realizing that Ben was finished, and wasn’t actually suckling, now. He was just gnawing on the nipple. It wasn’t horrible, but Peter was glad that he didn’t have teeth, and wondered how some women managed to breastfeed even after their baby had begun teething. “I’d like the company. He’s finished,” he added. “Do you want him back?”

Tony shook his head, loving the sight of the boy holding his son – although he definitely didn’t say it aloud.

“He looks comfortable. Maybe he’ll fall asleep…”

“I think that’s going to be a mantra for the near future,” Peter said. “ _Go to sleep, Ben… go to sleep, Ben…”_

“I’m sure of it.”

He’d actually been whispering it, earlier – although he wasn't going to admit it.


	20. 20

“Are you sure about this, Stephen?”

“Yes.” Of course, even if he weren’t _completely_ certain, he’d never admit that to Tony Stark, now would he? “Peter?” he stood close at hand, just in case, watching as the young man eased himself upright for the first time since the baby had been born, seven days earlier. “Make sure you stop, immediately, if you feel any sharp pains – especially along the suture line.”

The boy smiled, shaking his head – although he looked worn out.

“I’m good,” he assured both men, standing up, but holding onto the stand next to the bed for support until he was certain of his balance. The catheter was out, which was a relief, since his penis was still sensitive, and that had been a bother. He needed to be able to be mobile, now. Stephen had kept him clean for a week, now, with magic, but Peter was definitely ready to start wiping his own butt. “Just a little stiff.”

“Just walk as far as the sofa,” Strange told him.

They’d set up a cozy nest for him, there, complete with warm blankets, a portable table with assorted snacks and foods, and plenty of things to keep his agile mind occupied. Both men were a little concerned by Peter’s appearance. He was losing weight, which was to be expected, but despite Tony and Stephen both taking care of anything Peter might need, the strain of constantly nursing little Benjamin was taking its toll on Peter’s body. He’d lost 7 pounds, 9 ounces immediately at Ben’s birth, and had lost another nine, since – despite eating twice what he normally would.

He was converting everything to milk, and being woken every two hours to feed the baby was keeping him from getting any real sleep. The boy kept assuring them that he was fine, and that he felt fine and was more than able to keep up with the feeding schedule, but did complain about being stuck in bed and making everyone else have to wait hand and foot on him. Because he looked so tired, Strange had kept him in bed a few days longer than he had intended, but the sutures looked clean, and there was no indication of infection or any complications.

Wearing a pair of sweats, now, warm (nonslip) slippers, a nursing bra, and a thick robe over it, he shuffled out the door and into the living area with Tony and Stephen behind him.

“How do you feel?” Tony asked, solicitously, moving to walk beside him when the room opened up and he could.

“It’s good to be on my feet,” Peter told him with a tired smile. “Ben’s asleep?”

“Zonked out, yes.”

They’d timed this move around the infant’s feeding schedule just to make sure Peter had time to settle in – or Stephen had a chance to deal with any complications that might have come up. So far, though, the doctor seemed cautiously pleased at how he was moving. He moved ahead of the other two and pulled the blanket back from the sofa. Peter saw there was another one under it, though, so he would be practically swathed, himself, once he sat down.

At least he was upright, though, he decided, when he settled on the couch. He wasn’t sprawled on it; he was sitting like any normal person might. Tony flipped the blanket around his shoulders, tucking it into place so it wouldn’t fall.

“I don’t want you upright for more than a few hours at a time,” Strange told him. “We’ll ease you into it, and still protect your stitches.”

“Alright.” He looked at the table of things – which were pretty much the same things that he’d been doing the last week while stuck in bed. Crossword puzzles, word searches, Sudoku puzzles, an e-reader with unlimited titles to read and even a hand-held video game. They were all well and good, but being stuck in bed had made them a chore. Now he was upright, and he smiled, feeling a new freedom – even though it was a false sensation, he knew. He was still very much needed every three hours, or so. (which was better than every two, though) “I don’t have to go back to bed, though, right?”

The doctor understood what he meant, and he smiled and shook his head.

“No. But I don’t want you getting up and down without having a good reason. If you need something, tell me – or Tony – and we’ll bring it for you.”

“For how long?”

“Until I say so.”

Peter rolled his eyes, which made Tony snort, softly, in amusement.

“I’m glad to see you out of bed,” he told the boy, sincerely. “Do as he says so we can try to get you on your feet as soon as possible.”

Again, they were both ganging up on him – even though they certainly didn’t see it that way, and he didn’t find it as annoying as he might have if he didn’t know that they were really sincere in their drive to get him healthy.

“I will.”

“Good.” Strange wiped his hands and looked at both of them. “I’m going to go check in at the sanctum, and then I’ll be back in time to make lunch before the next feeding. Tony? I’ll leave him in your capable hands for the next hour, or so.”

Stark nodded.

“Thanks, Stephen.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Peter added. “Really.”

“You’re welcome.”

The doctor left and Tony reached for a small tube of cream that was also on the roll-away table.

“Let’s check you out, honey,” he said, looking at the boy, expectantly.

Peter knew what he was referring to, and opened his robe, then the nursing bra, exposing those very full breasts for both of them to look at. They’d grown a bit larger since he was regularly nursing Ben, but the baby wasn’t gentle when he nursed, and both of Peter’s nipples were irritated and red from the abuse. That was something that they’d read about, too, and Strange had produced a balm that could be rubbed into the nipples to soothe the redness and help with the chafing. It wouldn’t hurt the baby if he got some on his lips or in his mouth, and thus far it had been helpful. Peter was more than capable of administering to his own nipples, of course, but Tony preferred to do it, pointing out that Peter wouldn’t need it done if it weren’t for the baby, so it was his responsibility to take care of it, right?

He didn’t argue. By then he knew that when Tony was focused on something, it didn’t do any good to argue, really. At least not when it was something like this. Besides, it felt better when it was Tony who was gently rubbing the balm into his skin than when Peter did it. Tony had wonderful hands, Peter already knew, of course, and a soothing touch.

“They look a little better,” he decided, looking down at them, and brushing his own fingers against the right side nipple.

“Yes… still a bit red, though.” Tony seated himself next to the boy, scooting close enough to have his body right up against him, and then shifted Peter until the boy was leaning back – his back against the billionaire’s front. Then he brought his arm around him, and slid his finger along the nipple, as well, his chin resting just above Peter’s shoulder so he had a good view of what he was doing – and just so happened to be holding him in somewhat of an embrace. The nipple hardened at his touch, and Peter tensed, but then relaxed against Tony’s touch. “Here,” the billionaire said, opening the tube and putting some of the cream on his finger before handing the tube to the boy. “Hold that.”

Peter took it, and then sighed when Tony began caressing the nipple with his thumb, rubbing the nub with his thumb and gently palpitating the breast with his palm and other fingers.

“That feels good…” Peter murmured, closing his eyes.

“Yeah?” Tony turned his head, kissing Peter’s cheek while he continued what he was doing. “It’s _supposed_ to, right?”

“Yes.”

“Have I mentioned just how sexy you are?” the older man whispered.

“With my saggy boobs and stretch marks on my belly?” Peter asked.

“All of that and more.” He kissed his cheek, again, hand still caressing. “The stretch marks aren’t so bad, really, and your boobs are perfect.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re horny,” Peter accused, feeling more cheerful than he had in the last couple of days. It was amazing how happy a person could feel just because he had new walls to look at. “And I’m your only option, right now,” he said, knowing that it was true, of course, but also happy that it was the case.

It had been genius to put that rule in the contract, really, because Peter wouldn’t have been able to deal with the thought of Tony being out making his moves on someone else while he was stuck at the estate feeling bloated and ugly.

He wasn’t above feeling possessive of the billionaire, and was sure that it was some kind of hormone thing that would eventually taper off, but was very much in command just then.

“I’m _so_ horny,” Tony agreed. “Watching Benji suckle on you, wanting to take the other side… Weird, I suppose, to be jealous of him, but they were mine, first.”

“Yeah?”

“You doubt it?” Tony had both arms around Peter, now, holding him from behind, and he took the tube of salve from the younger man, putting some on his other fingers to start massaging the other nipple. “Maybe I’ll ask Stephen if this stuff would work better if I applied it with my lips…”

Peter shivered, but he blushed, slightly.

“Don’t even _think_ about it. I’ll be so embarrassed.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, honey,” Tony crooned. “I might have asked him about having sex with you, though,” he added, breathing into Peter’s neck. “And how long I would have to wait…”

Another shiver; it felt wonderful – and the topic was exactly what Peter needed, really, to pull him from the funk that being stuck in bed had put him in. He hadn’t even known he was feeling so down until he wasn’t.

“What did he say…?”

“He reminded me that your delivery wasn’t vaginal, so we don’t have to worry about swelling, tearing, or redness.”

“True.”

“And then he reminded me that you _do_ have a row of stitches that have to come out before we even think about doing anything. Because there would be a real concern that we might tear something – and then it would expose you to the possibility of infection.”

“ _Also_ true. What else did he say?”

“He pointed out that you still have all your womanly parts, and that while it’s extremely rare, it’s not unheard of for a woman to ovulate just after birth. He said that he would _not_ be happy if I got you pregnant, again, by mistake.”

Peter chuckled.

“I wouldn’t, either.”

Tony used a slightly greasy finger to Peter’s jaw to gently force him to turn his head and look at him.

“We can work around that.” They had plenty of options, after all, and all of them were enjoyable. “You’re not adverse to the idea of fooling around?”

“No.” He’d take what he could get, as long as he could. “After the stitches come out.”

Tony grumbled at that, but took the opportunity to kiss Peter, softly.

“I can wait…”

He still had boobs to play with, after all.


	21. 21

It was fourteen days from Benjamin’s birth that Strange decided it was safe to take out the stitches.

By then, Peter wasn’t the only one who looked tired. The relentless feeding schedule was exhausting, and even taking turns, Tony and Stephen didn’t get much more solid rest than Peter was getting. The only one who was sleeping, regularly, was the baby, and that was because it was pretty much all he did in between feeding. Sometimes while he slept, Tony would hold him. Sitting on the sofa with Peter, the billionaire would cradle the little body in his strong embrace and watch him sleep. Sometimes, he’d use a gentle fingertip to caress the baby’s cheeks, and sometimes he’d croon a lullaby to him. Peter would watch, until he usually dozed off beside the two, tucked into a warm blanket to make sure he didn’t catch a chill, or anything, and comforted by the warmth of the man next to him.

Other times, Tony or Stephen would swaddle the baby and put him in his bassinet so he could sleep while they took care of everything else that needed to be done. Household chores were easy enough, because Stephen was tired and knew Tony was, too, so he used a judicious amount of magic in the undertaking of cleaning, washing, and laundry. They made sure to eat. Peter was cajoled into eating four full meals a day. Plain food, but healthy and filling, and Tony was always willing to bring it to him, even though he was getting up and around better with each passing day.

The excellent care was telling, and while Peter still looked tired, he wasn’t as pale as been when he’d been allowed out of his bed, and he was regaining his stamina. He was young and healthy, after all, and it made all the difference to his recovery. He started to take over some of Benjamin’s care when the baby wasn’t eating, in order to make sure that Tony was able to get some rest, now, too. He changed diapers when needed, burped him – which sometimes resulted in some of the grossest messes, despite the burping cloths – and bathed him, getting more confident with each passing day.

It was a little easier, now, too, since Benjamin didn’t need to eat every two hours, any longer. Every four hours, now, and that extra time gave the three men a chance to sleep a little longer, gave Stephen a chance to vanish for a couple of hours at a time to take care of whatever things a sorcerer supreme did when he wasn’t magically doing the dishes or folding sheets. It also gave Tony time to spend with Peter.

Quiet time. Time that was filled with gentle caresses, and wonderfully heated kisses. Sometimes they would just fall asleep holding each other until Benjamin would wake them crying, or FRIDAY would wake them to remind them that a feeding was coming up. Then Tony would kiss Peter, and open the robe and dip his head to lip at the nursing bra before he opened it, as well, and prepared whichever nipple he thought looked most delicious that moment. Peter would lean back, slightly, and close his eyes, savoring the care that Tony would use, and knowing full well that when Ben started feeding, his greed would leave that nipple aching and sore until Tony lavished attention on it, later, with tongue, lips, and balm.

On the fourteenth day Strange waited until the baby had fed and then suggested that Tony put the sleeping baby in his bassinet rather than cradle him as he slept.

“I need a nurse,” he said, as a small packet of medical supplies appeared from seemingly nowhere to land in his hand.

“Oh?”

“I’m going to look at Peter’s stitches and see if he’s ready for them to come out.” The doctor looked at Peter. “What do you think?”

Peter smiled.

“I think it’s a great idea.”

“Up on the table, then.”

The boy didn’t even ache that much as he walked over to the dining room table. Tony put a sheet on it to protect the finish, and Peter sat on it, legs dangling down as he opened the robe he was wearing and then pulled the front of his sweats down enough to give Stephen access to the bandages that were covering his lower abdomen. He and Tony both watched with interest as the bandages came off and the doctor probed the suture line with a gloved finger and a pair of forceps.

“How do they look?” Peter asked.

“Clean,” was the response. “No redness, and no swelling. I probably could have removed them a couple of days ago, really.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Stark pointed out. “Are you sure you can take them out, alright?”

The doctor gave him a look, eyebrow raised.

“I’m a brain surgeon, Tony,” he reminded him. “I’ve done a billion stitches.”

“Yeah, but _nurses_ take them out, right?”

Now there was an eyeroll.

“It’s a simple process.” He looked at Peter. “Want me to get a nurse?”

The boy smiled and shook his head.

“I trust you.”

So out they came. The forceps caught each knot and a pair of tiny sharp scissors cut it so that it could be pulled out. Only one bled at all, and it had been a particularly deep one that Peter assured both men he didn’t even really feel. Strange wiped the entire area down with an alcohol swab and put a simple bandaid on the one that had bled.

“Keep an eye on them,” he told the two. “They shouldn’t give you any problems, and the scarring is going to be minimal, but we don’t want any surprises.”

“Thanks, Stephen,” Peter said, easing off the table rather than hopping down – although he felt like doing just that. “It feels fine.”

“Good.” The surgeon looked at both of them – and now his expression was serious. “I have one more thing I need to discuss with you both.”

Tony had been pulling the sheet off the table, but the tone of voice and the other man’s expression made him set it aside.

“What’s up?”

“Today is the last day for me to hold off on certifying the birth certificate.”

“Oh.”

Strange looked at Peter.

“What that means, really, is that it’s your last chance to change your mind. I can make a new one and put your name on it as the mother. Transvestite men have given birth, before, it wouldn’t be so incredible. He’s _yours_ , after all. It’s your right to make it official.”

Peter froze, surprised at the offer, and then gratified when he realized what Stephen was doing. He was giving him a last chance to be a part of Ben’s life – and maybe _Tony’s_? Of course, it wouldn’t be an idyllic life, now would it? There would be custody battles and harsh words, and visits with courts, and advocates, and lawyers. Tony’s ultimate plan to have a child and an heir would be outed to the world, and Ben would bear the brunt of all of that when he was old enough to understand. Not to mention what it would do to Tony, as well. At best, Peter would get shared custody (there was no way a court would side with him against Tony Stark, who had enough money to take care of a baby while Peter was a poor college student) and would get Ben on every other holiday and maybe some weekends. And when he did? Would it be Tony who brought him? Tony who would be so beautiful, but would almost certainly be angry? Or – worse – hurt?

That wasn’t the life that Peter wanted for himself, and it certainly wasn’t the life that he wanted Tony and Ben to have. If he wasn’t in the scene, the boy would have Tony’s full attention, and would know only the same love and attentive care that Tony had graced Peter with the past ten months, or so. He’d have everything that he needed, Peter knew. And Tony would be happy. That meant everything to Peter.

So he smiled, and he shook his head, not looking at Tony – who had been quiet during Stephen’s explanation – and hadn’t argued, or told the man to mind his own business.

“I appreciate that, Stephen,” Peter told him. “You have no idea how much. But Ben isn’t mine. He never was. He’s Tony’s.”

The doctor’s gaze was intent, but he eventually nodded, and looked at Tony.

“I’ll have it certified today, and will get you a copy for your records by this weekend.”

“Thank you, Stephen.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to go take care of that, and some other things. You three are on your own for the next seven hours.”

He was leaving for longer and longer, now, and Peter and Tony knew that it was his way of giving them a chance to develop their own patterns for taking care of Benjamin as he gained a little weight and got into a routine. It was also his way of weaning them from him being there, constantly. Now that Peter was able to help, more, and wasn't in danger of any complications from the stitches, he was going to come around less and less. They were the baby’s parents, after all, and he had sorcerer things to take care of that he’d been putting off the last couple of weeks.

“Thanks.”

“You can call if anything comes up, though,” he added. “And no sex for at least another week.”

Then he was gone.

There was a moment of silence between the two men, and Peter cleared his throat, wondering if Tony was annoyed that the doctor had even brought the custody thing up – and a little disappointed at the last comment. He offered up an uncertain smile.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not still contractually obligated to keep me happy the next couple of months,” he pointed out, ignoring the sex thing, and going to the more important topic that he wanted to clear the air about. “I expect a ton of pampering and cosseting.”

Tony’s smile seemed a little sad, but Peter couldn’t understand why, and he decided that he was reading him wrong. The guy was tired, after all, and had just been given the promise that he wasn’t going to have to fight any legal battles to keep the baby that he’d worked so hard to get. He was probably just relieved to tears, or something. The billionaire stepped up, sliding his arms, carefully, around Peter, and hugging him, close.

“I can guarantee that,” he assured him, burying his face in the crook of Peter’s shoulder and neck. “I’m going to love the hell out of you…”

Peter hugged him, close.

“Thank you.”

He was going to need it, he knew. A final amazing couple of months’ worth of memories to carry with him when he left to be on his own, once more. Much richer, of course, but he felt a pang inside that had nothing to do with the stitches that had been removed.

He was going to be so alone.


	22. 22

The nursery lights came on as Peter entered the room, but the light didn’t diminish the soft cries of unhappiness. Peter walked over to the bassinet and smiled, tenderly, when he picked the baby up, holding him with a confidence that only came with the fact that he held him every time he fed him, and he didn’t even want to try to do that math – even though they were only three weeks in.

“Hey, grumpy baby…” he crooned, tucking that little body against his chest and putting the little head right under his chin. “You’re going to wake up your daddy, and he needs sleep…”

As he walked the baby, he slid the hand not holding Ben under the blanket, feeling the diaper to see if there was any suspicious moisture, or – _worse_ – any lumps that didn’t belong. Nothing seemed amiss, and he smiled, relieved and a little amused with himself for being so relieved.

He wasn’t a fan of poopy diapers, and completely understood, by then, Tony’s earlier lament about the sloppy one that he’d changed.

Ben made a soft whimpering noise, but he was settling, nicely, and now that Peter knew he didn’t need changed, he eased himself into the finely upholstered rocking chair that they’d ordered for just this occasion. Peter had walked into the room wearing only a robe, so it wasn’t any great hardship to open it, and settle Ben against his nipple. He did make a soft noise of pain when the baby latched on with his typical greed, and then leaned back, slightly, and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the baby, and making soothing noises to assure him that all was well with his little world.

Why wouldn’t it be, really, he thought to himself, smiling. Ben Stark was the most adored baby, ever. He was a lot of work, of course, but he was a baby and that was how the whole baby thing worked. Peter wasn’t an expert, and even he knew that. Well, he hadn’t been an expert, but he was beginning to be pretty competent doing all of the things that he hadn’t had a chance to do when he’d been stuck in bed and was strictly nursing.

Now he could change Ben, could dress him – and holy shit, the baby looked adorable in some of the clothes that Tony and Peter had chosen for him. Little Avenger themed outfits, and Ironman themes, and trains, baby animals, firemen, Disney characters, and even a _World’s Greatest Baby_ onesie. He had bathed him, twice, now, and was an expert at swaddling even when Ben was at his most animated and wriggly.

As he waited for him to drink his fill, which never took that long, really, Peter rocked them, lightly, and opened his eyes, watching him, now. The baby’s eyes were closed, but Peter knew them by heart. The blue that he’d been born with had darkened, and Peter saw Tony’s eyes looking up at him every time ben looked at him, That was a good thing, he’d told the billionaire when they’d commented on it. It made thing a lot easier that the baby looked just like his father, and very little like Peter. There would be fewer questions, anyway.

“He has your curls,” Tony had pointed out. Which was true. The coloring was Tony, but the curls were definitely Peter.

The baby burped, drawing Peter’s mind back from its wanderings, and he smiled when he realized that Ben was finished. The baby made a soft noise, and Peter got up, easily, and made sure there was a burping towel over his shoulder when he put the little guy against his shoulder, patting him, lightly, as they walked the length of the room – which was exactly 17 steps before he had to turn around. Peter and Tony both knew it, and they had similar strides. There were a couple more burps, and Peter looked down at the floor and over his shoulder, both, to make sure they hadn’t been runny burps that had left a mess along his back or along their wake, but there were no surprises, this time.

“That’s a good guy,” he murmured to the baby, still walking because he was restless, and didn’t want to sit still. “You save that really gross stuff for your daddy. He _likes_ the messes.”

Which actually wasn’t true, of course, but Tony didn’t mind them. It was a mark of fatherhood, he’d told Peter – as he was cleaning up a bundle of wipes and a soiled onesie that had Peter gagging. Ben wiped his little face on Peter’s shoulder and those tiny hands clutched the boy’s shirt, holding on as he was walked to and fro, Peter more than willing to keep him company until he fell asleep, once more.

><><><><><>

Tony stirred when Peter slid into his bed with him.

“Hmmm…?”

“Shhh…” Peter whispered, tucking himself against the warm body of the older man, and shivering, slightly, when Tony automatically pulled him closer. “Go back to sleep.”

They were sleeping in the same bed, and had every night since Stephen had taken out the stitches. It was comforting for both of them to be so close to the other – although neither mentioned it. Besides, there wasn’t any sense in Peter not being close at hand, all the time. If Tony wanted to let Peter sleep and Ben was awake and hungry, he would simply bring the baby into his bedroom and tuck him against Peter’s side. Usually he was smooth enough that Peter only woke long enough to make sure the baby had latched on – and Tony knew that it still hurt him when it happened – and then he sometimes would even go back to sleep, even as Benjamin was nursing.

If – like that night – Peter was awake when Ben started fussing, he would slip out of Tony’s arms and go feed him. He didn’t need an assistant, after all – although he did enjoy those times when Tony and he were both there for feedings.

Peter loved watching Tony with Ben. The man was going to be – was already – an excellent father, and he was only going to be more and more amazing as time went on and there were more ways for him to connect with his son.

“He ate?”

The billionaire hadn’t opened his eyes, yet, but his hand was caressing Peter’s side, lazily. They were sleeping together, yes, but they hadn’t had sex, yet. Not since the stitches came out. That week restriction that Stephen had put on them was almost up, though, and they were both well aware of it.

“Yes.”

Tony’s large palm slid to Peter’s breast, gently cupping one, and then the other.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sore?”

“Yeah. A little…”

Tony pushed Peter onto his back and followed the motion, rolling until he was looming over him.

“Let me do something about that,” he said, leaning down and gently taking Peter’s nipple in his mouth.

His touch was the complete opposite of Ben’s, and Peter sighed at the sensation. Considering it was similar to what Ben did, it was crazy that it was so erotic. Tony wasn’t actively suckling; he was just using his lips and tongue on Peter, and it was so relaxing that the sigh turned into a soft moan.

“Jesus, that’s so good…”

Stark smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“Want more?”

“You’re not too tired?”

“Too tired for you?” Tony asked, catching the other nipple in his mouth and tasting it for a moment. “No. Never.”

He released the nipple and shifted, just a little. A little lower. His tongue left a wet trail down Peter’s belly, following the now invisible line of muscles that led lower still, until the head of Peter’s aching cock was brushing against the facial hair on Tony’s chin.

“Oh, that’s good…”

It had been so long.

“Just oral, tonight, honey,” Tony told him, licking a wet stripe along Peter’s shaft, and smiling at the way that rod of eager flesh literally twitched. “We’ll make sure it’s safe before we do anything else.”

Stephen was only stopping in once a day, now, and that was really only to help them with the daily chores that the two men were just to busy to take care of themselves. Dishes would get done, and laundry would be clean and even folded in a mere instant. It was convenient – and helpful – and they both appreciated it. Tony made a mental note to take the doctor aside the next time he showed up and double check that Peter wouldn’t suffer for having Tony bury himself inside him.

“Turn around, Tony,” Peter said, shifting under him. “Dinner for two…”

The older man chuckled, and did as he was told, turning himself on the bed until he was straddling Peter’s head, his own cock throbbing and hard. Peter’s hands went to Tony’s rear, and he used that grip to pull him down, opening his mouth and allowing Tony’s cock to slide along his tongue.

“Fuuuuck…”

With his mouth full, Peter chuckled, but couldn’t respond, verbally. He didn’t need to, though. He closed his eyes, focusing on what he was doing to Tony – and what Tony was doing to _him_ – until both of them were tensing, and trying very hard to think of anything that would make them last just a little longer to be able to enjoy the sensation. Not surprisingly with his extra sensitive cock, Peter was the first to climax, and Tony took him down, slurping and sucking as he stroked Peter’s cock, milking the younger man with talented fingers and tongue, and Peter groaned in pleasure as he jerked and writhed under him. Which was – of course – all it took to set Tony off, and strong fingers dug into the billionaire’s rear, holding him in place as Peter drank him down, throat muscles moving deliciously against Tony’s cock as he swallowed everything that the other man had to give him and then spent a few moments tenderly licking him clean.

“Ugh…” Tony said, finally pulling out and kissing the head of Peter’s cock before he shifted, once more, and gathered the boy into his arms before reaching for the blankets. “I needed that.”

“So did I.”

“Thank you…”

The younger man smiled, and then tucked himself under Tony’s chin and closed his eyes. He was asleep almost immediately, and Tony wasn’t far behind.

Not after that.

He would definitely need to talk to Stephen. As soon as possible.


	23. 23

“Aren’t you two tired?”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“Of course we are. But not _too_ tired.”

“Obviously.”

“Just answer the question, Stephen.”

Strange shrugged, picking up a new package of diapers and making sure it was open and accessible. The two men were in the nursery, getting it ready for the next week of activity, while Peter had Benjamin out in the living room, sitting on the sofa feeding him.

“Could you hurt him? Yes. If you’re not careful.”

“And if I’m _careful_?”

“Then, yes, you can have sex with him. _Anal_ sex, only, though. I wasn’t joking when I mentioned the possibility of another pregnancy.”

“No. I know.” Tony nodded. “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“And while it isn’t my business, positions need to be considered.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t put him on his stomach,” the doctor replied. “It would put pressure on his abdomen that could possibly cause injury to the muscles that are healing inside. Not to mention, it probably wouldn’t feel too good with his breasts so swollen.”

“And the nipples sore like they are…” Tony added, thoughtfully.

“Correct. I don’t know – and don’t need to know – what your preferences are, but I’d suggest nothing too rough, no matter what the position. He feels good, but he’s still fragile, so treat him, thusly.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Are you ready for the pediatrician appointment?”

When Benjamin was born the doctors that had been present had given him his first exam, verified everything looked right and had done all those things a newborn needed. Strange had been checking the umbilical stump, making sure his development was on track and keeping track of his sleep/feeding patterns. Now, though, the baby was ready for an actual appointment with the pediatrician, and Tony was going to take him.

“The new car was delivered, yesterday.”

Strange had found a highly recommended doctor and had set the appointment up, so Tony only needed to show up with Benji.

The doctor looked at the car seat, which was sitting on the corner table.

“Have you practiced putting the car seat in the car?”

“What?”

Strange smirked.

“I’ll take that as a no.” he walked over to it, and looked back at Tony. “Have you practiced putting Benjamin in it?”

“No.”

They were interrupted by Peter’s appearance at the door of the nursery, with the baby in his arms. Benjamin was awake, but nicely settled with a full belly of warm milk.

“What are you two up to?” he asked, curiously.

“Stephen seems to think I need to practice putting the car seat in the car,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes.

“What?” Peter frowned, looking at the doctor. “How hard can it be?”

Stephen walked over and took the baby from Peter.

“Why don’t you two take the car seat out to the car and do it a few times,” he suggested. “Just to make sure you understand how it works – preferably before the baby is in it.”

“I built an Ironman suite in a cave in the middle of nowhere,” Tony reminded him, picking up the car seat by the handle. “How hard can it be?”

Peter didn’t look quite so certain – mainly because he recognized that Strange looked amused, but he followed Tony out into the living room, stopping long enough to push his feet into shoes and grab a jacket.

Strange looked down at the baby, and smiled.

“If it were a little warmer, or you were a little older, we’d go out and watch them,” he told the baby. “IU wish we had a video,” he added. “It’d be fun to have for when you were old enough to appreciate it.”

Little Benjamin didn’t respond, but Stephen hadn’t expected him to. He sniffed the air, and then frowned and looked down at the little guy.

“Ugh.”

><><><><><><><

“It says slot A into tab B…”

“There isn’t a slot A, honey,” Tony said, scowling. “It’s all B’s.”

Peter leaned against the fine leather of the seat that he was sprawled on, trying to help Tony from the other side as the two fumbled with the car seat. A contrivance that had seemed simple when they’d ordered it, but now was suddenly ridiculously tricky and complicated. He had a user manual in his hands, but the thing might as well have been written in Chinese for all the good it was doing them.

It didn’t help that the car was new, too, and – not surprisingly – it was filled with all of the latest tech. The cars that Tony had were, for the most part, two seaters and even he and Peter had known that it wasn’t right to have Benjamin in the front seat, even with a car seat. So Tony had ordered a new car. A small sized SUV that was sensible enough to be a safe, family car, but still fairly sporty. And it had some kind of special harness for a car seat from infant all the way to merely a booster seat for a toddler, but the car seat, and the car’s system didn’t seem to be meshing very well, thus far – and they’d been working on it for almost half an hour.

Which might as well have been a million years, really.

“Let’s start, again,” Peter suggested, recognizing that Tony was getting frustrated, and understanding completely. He handed the billionaire the car seat manual and took the one for the new SUV. “Here. Fresh eyes for each.”

Tony didn’t look convinced, but he took the paper.

“We’ll see.”

><><><><><>

Strange was relaxing on the sofa, a cup of coffee on the end table and a magazine in his hand when Tony and Peter walked back into the house. Benjamin was asleep in his bassinet, just within range of the doctor.

“What took you so long?” the doctor asked, looking up at their arrival.

Tony scowled.

“Funny.”

That made Stephen smirk – and Peter chuckle.

“We figured it out.”

Eventually.

“And now you’re ready to practice putting Benjamin into the car seat?”

“No,” Stark replied. “We’re going to practice putting one of those dolls into the car seat.”

No sense waking the baby, after all.

“Good choice.”

Peter went to get one of the dolls, and then both of them practiced several times with it and the car seat until the motion was effortless and they were both confident of their abilities.

“How long will this appointment last?” Peter asked, looking at the sleeping baby. “Do you think we should feed him, first?”

He was eating every five hours, or so, and doing very well – as far as they knew. It was one of the things the pediatrician would tell Tony once he’d checked all of those one month milestones – although Ben was, technically, only at 3 and a half weeks.

“No more than an hour,” Strange replied. “Tony filled out all of the paperwork online that normally takes the longest time at the appointment, so it’ll be an in and out situation.” Peter wasn’t going to the appointment for obvious reasons, and Strange didn’t want to be seen in public with Tony Stark if it could be avoided. Not because he didn’t like the guy, but because he wasn’t interested in fielding questions from his few friends who might wonder why he was hanging out with ironman. “The doctor will be checking his weight gain, his reflexes and the usual milestones – and making sure he’s ready to start transitioning to formula.”

Which made Tony frown.

“You don’t think it’s too early?”

“Every baby is different, Tony,” Stephen reminded him. “But I think that Benjamin, here, will benefit from a slow transition, and that means starting as soon as possible, but still breastfeeding for up to a month, just to ease into it and avoid upset stomachs.”

“It’ll be a relief to not have him gnawing on me,” Peter admitted. “But I’m not in any hurry to rush him sooner than he’s ready,” he added. “The idea is to make sure that he has the best possible start.”

Strange nodded his agreement.

“Make sure you allow your AI to record what’s being said, Tony,” he ordered the billionaire. “I want the information as first-hand as possible.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

He knew Peter wanted to hear what was said, as well.

“I think he’ll be fine to wait to eat until he’s home,” Stephen said. He looked at Tony, smiling, slightly – although now it wasn’t quite as smug as the car seat thing had been. “Are you nervous about your first trip out with him in public?”

“No one is even going to know it’s me,” Stark reminded him. Tony Stark with a baby? No chance in hell. At least not until the big reveal to the world. “But as far as having Benji out in the big, wide, world?” he smiled, truly looking forward to it. “We’re going to be great.”

Peter had no doubt.


	24. 24

Peter was alone at the estate when Stark returned, pulling the SUV up in the front of the house and then carrying the car seat through the front door. A very unhappy Benjamin could be heard crying under the blanket that Tony had covering the entire thing.

“How did it go?” Peter asked, pulling the blanket off, and looking down at the baby. Ben saw him and stopped crying in mid scream, his face red, but his eyes locked on the young man. “Hey, baby. Are you hungry?”

“Hungry and needs changed,” Tony said, tossing his keys onto the coffee table. “I thought babies were supposed to fall asleep in the car? He cried the whole way home.”

Tony looked just a little frazzled, and Peter could understand why. Crying babies were no fun, they already knew.

“Poor baby,” Peter said, unhooking the buckles on the car seat. “You didn’t like the car ride?”

“He was good at the doctor’s,” Tony added, watching as Peter pulled Benji out of the car seat and cuddled him against his chest, patting his back, lightly. “And she is already in love with him.”

“Of course she is.” He smiled at the older man. “Go relax. I’ll change him and feed him, and then you can tell me what you found out.”

“Thank you.”

Peter watched as Tony headed for his bedroom – presumably to change – and the young man carried the baby into the nursery.

><><><><><

By the time Tony was changed into sweats and a t-shirt (and had had a chance to pee) Peter had changed Ben and was sitting in the living room, propped against some pillows on the sofa feeding him. The younger man looked up as he walked in.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thanks. Did you eat?”

“Yes, and I saved you some – it’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks.” The billionaire vanished into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a plate of chicken and rice fresh from the microwave. “Stephen left?”

Peter nodded.

“He said he’d be by tomorrow, sometime, to hear what you learned.” He shifted the baby, who was finished nursing, but not willing to give up the nipple, just yet. “I’d rather not wait until then.”

Tony sat down, more than willing – and able – to eat and report what the pediatrician had told him at the same time.

“He’s perfect,” the older man said, with justifiable pride. “She said that he cleared all of the reflex tests, and seems to be right on with his milestones. He’s gained just the right amount of weight, and she pleased with the amount of time between feeding, and with how much sleep he gets. The umbilical stump is healing, perfectly, and she thinks that he’s good to go on the formula plan – although she does like the idea of easing him into it rather than doing it abruptly. She suggested a three week action plan, and gave it to me so I could go over it with you. We’ll adjust as needed, of course, but it’s safe for him.”

Peter looked down at the baby, and his abused nipples. Ben was already dozing off, full belly and Peter’s embrace all that he’d needed now that he was home from the exhausting business of meeting his pediatrician.

“That’s good. _You’re_ okay with it?”

“Yeah.” Tony took another bite, hungrily. “As long as we go slow. She guaranteed that if we don’t change to formula too quickly, he won’t have any stomach issues. We can go over it, later, with Stephen.”

Strange wasn’t Benjamin’s doctor, but he _was_ – in a sense – so Tony would feel better making sure that he knew what they were doing. At least for the first few months, or so.

“Sounds good.”

Stark smiled, his expression suddenly cheerful, and maybe a little naughty.

“Ask me what _else_ I learned, today…”

“What else did you learn today?” Peter asked, smiling, too.

“Stephen told me that we’re good for happy fun time.”

“Yeah?”

“As long as we’re _careful_ ,” Tony added.

“We can be careful,” the boy said, suddenly in a really good mood – and anticipating. “Right?”

“Definitely.” He took a final bite of his meal, and set the plate aside, standing up. “Why don’t I put Benji in his bassinet and you meet me in my bed?”

No sense in waiting for nighttime, after all. Not when Peter was clearly willing – and Tony ached to be inside him.

Besides, the baby was asleep, and they had to take their moments when they could get them. He was a new parent, but he’d already figured that out.

“Great idea.”

><><><><><>

Peter was undressed and sitting on the edge of Tony’s bed when the older man walked in only a few minutes later. The boy was sliding his palm along his already erect cock, and as far as Tony was concerned, he was beautiful. Full breasts were a bit out of place, but Tony was nothing if not adaptable, and he had plenty of experience with women, as well as men, and enjoyed Peter’s breasts more than he’d ever loved any woman’s. Because they nourished Benji, he knew, walking over and looking down at him.

“You can’t be on your belly,” he told the boy. “It might hurt you.”

“It wouldn’t be very comfortable,” Peter agreed, letting himself go and reaching for the front of Tony’s sweats so he could pull them down. He looked up at the older man, running his hand along Tony’s pretty cock – which wasn’t too hard, yet, but Peter knew wouldn’t take long to get it interested. “What else?”

“I can’t fold you in half,” he replied. “No knees to your chest, and nothing that will put any strain on your belly – or irritate your nipples,” he added. He sighed with pleasure at Peter’s touch. “Suck me, honey.”

“Yes.”

More than willing, Peter took the head of Tony’s cock into his mouth, lips and tongue already working the sensitive flesh. He smiled around the stiffening rod of flesh when Tony groaned, softly, and took a careful handful of hair to hold him where he wanted him for the moment.

“Jesus,” Tony murmured. “That’s so fucking good…”

He allowed Peter to suck him and play with him until he was fully aroused, his cock throbbing and eager, now. Then he pulled back, sliding the head out of Peter’s mouth, almost regretfully.

“On my back, then…?” Peter asked.

Stark leaned over him, pushing him backward, onto the bed a little further in reply. Then he kissed each nipple, lovingly, and tongued them until they were stiff points of flesh which were lightly drooling milk onto Peter’s chest to roll down his side. The boy moaned in pleasure (although the was just a twinge of pain, as well) and his hand found Tony’s hair, and took a handful.

“Feels good?” Tony asked, rhetorically.

He knew what Peter enjoyed, by now, of course.

“Yes.”

Tony’s hand went to Peter’s cock while he began kissing his way down Peter’s belly, and then further, hot breath on his hand and Peter’s balls. He stroked Peter, and played with his smooth balls, and then nudged the entrance to the boy’s vagina with his fingertip. Peter moaned at the dual sensations, and parted his legs for Tony, giving himself over to whatever the older man wanted to do with him – and _to_ him.

“You’re so pretty, Peter,” Tony murmured, reaching for the lube and dribbling some on his fingers, while moving his body between Peter’s legs, subconsciously making sure the younger man stayed right where he was. “I’m want you so much.”

The first finger slid into Peter’s ass, fighting the tight muscles there, but making its presence felt as Tony began stretching the boy to prepare him for what was to come. He opened his mouth at the same time and started sucking Peter’s cock. First just the head, but then taking more and more length until he was deepthroating him. The action was clearly appreciated, because Peter arched against both the invasion, and the sensation of getting sucked, and Tony decided that he shouldn’t be surprised that Peter was already closed.

The younger man whined deliciously when another finger joined the first, and his hips started to move in time with Tony’s motions.

“Jesus… I’m… fuck, Tony… more…”

The billionaire made an approving noise and really went to work on the younger man, wanting him to cum as many times as he could make it happen. Wanting Peter to enjoy himself, and Tony’s loving. Giving himself as many memories of Peter as he could, since the contract included no photos of the boy.

Peter climaxed when Tony’s third finger entered him and brushed his prostate. Stark swallowed down the load of cum, and just kept doing what he was doing, enjoying the way Peter writhed under him, and savoring the noises that he made. His searching finger went along Peter’s slit, too, and he wasn’t surprised that Peter was slick. He was surprised by just how excited it made him, though. His cock was already leaking precum, and Tony was careful to keep it out of Peter’s grasp while he sucked the boy hard, once more, and then drank him down when he came, once more.

Satisfied that Peter was well taken care of, Tony stroked himself hard, once again, and slathered his cock with lube. He leaned over Peter’s supine body, careful not to put his weight on Peter, and his hand around his cock guided it along Peter’s thigh, and then under his smoothly shaved balls. For a moment – just a moment – the bulbous head nudged against Peter’s slit and the tight, but wet entrance to Peter’s vagina. He hesitated, tempted. He could slide himself into him. Could hold him down and fuck him, thrusting himself deeper and deeper with every motion until he was filling Peter, once more, with his seed. If he got lucky, Peter would be ovulating and maybe Tony would get him pregnant, again… Could have the boy all to himself for another 11 months – a year and a half, maybe. Could have more time to convince him that he should just stay with Tony and Benji.

He groaned, and moved away from that too tight opening and pressed against Peter’s ass, instead. He couldn’t do that to Peter. Not only would it hurt, because the vagina was almost as tight as it had been when they’d first explored that form of loving, but it would put Peter in danger, getting him pregnant, again. And it wasn’t fair to the boy to do something like that without discussing it, first. Another 11 months in isolation? Peter would hate him for the rest of his life – and certainly wouldn’t want anything to do with Tony.

The billionaire slid himself, gently, home, and he buried his face against Peter’s neck as he began to fuck him with slow and easy movements.

“You’re so tight, honey,” he whispered, making sure there was no pressure on Peter’s abdomen. “So perfect.”

“Yes… fuck… fuck… that’s so good.”

He was still trying to writhe, but Tony had him pinned to the bed, now, and was burying himself, deep, with each thrust, feeling Peter’s inner walls try to hold him in with each motion.

“I’m so hot for you, Peter,” Stark told him, shoving himself deep as hard as he dared and climaxing. His cock spasmed, and pretty much erupted inside Peter, who arched against the sensation, and then brought his arms firmly around Tony, holding him as tightly as he could, feeling his insides painted. “Take it, Peter. All of it.”

“Shiiit…”

They were quiet for a long moment once Tony finished, cock still inside him and twitching.

“Are you alright?” Stark asked, pulling out, regretfully, and looking down at the younger man under him.

“Yeah…” He slid a hand along Tony’s chest and belly, smiling. “That was intense.”

“That it was…” Tony rolled off of him, and out from between his legs to be able to reach for a blanket to pull over them and then cuddle against Peter, pulling him into his arms. “You’re so wonderful.”

Peter smiled, feeling better than he had in a while. Certainly less stressed than he had been. Something to be said for having an experienced lover, after all.

“You are, too.”

“Yeah?”

Tony wasn’t above fishing for compliments.

“Mhmmm.” He traced a fingertip against Tony’s belly, idly, still coming down. “If you want to do the vagina thing, and you’re willing to work it open like we did before we started using it, we could probably be safe if we had sex the night before Stephen changes me back. Then we don’t need to worry about getting me pregnant.”

He slid his finger along the slit.

“That sounds like a plan.

A very good plan.

Tony didn’t tell Peter why he hesitated, allowing the boy to think he was just interested in sex in that certain entrance, but he was definitely going to start working Peter, so he could take him up on it. Maybe a couple of times.

They’d have to wait and see.


	25. 25

Benjamin took the transition to formula much better than Peter did.

“No stomach issues?” Strange asked, over the phone, one evening, only two weeks into the switch. “Spitting up? Unusual crying, when he didn’t before?”

“He’s doing fine,” Tony had assured the man, looking at the baby in his arms gnawing on the nipple of the bottle. “Like a champion.”

Peter was sitting on the sofa, as well, and could hear Stephen tell them to call if he was needed before ending the phone call.

“He _is_ doing fine,” the younger man agreed, feeling a sadness swell up within him, even though his nipples were much less painful, lately – and less abused. “We might as well have Stephen change me back.”

Tony frowned, looking over at him.

“The contract says _two months_ , honey,” he reminded him. “More if needed.”

“He doesn’t need me, though,” Peter said, feeling a lump in his throat and a stinging in his eyes. “He’s alright.”

“I need you,” Stark assured him. He knew Peter well, by then, and didn’t miss the way he suddenly looked sad. Mood swings were nothing new, of course, and he and Peter had been through many of them during the pregnancy – and a few since the birth. “More and more.”

“For _sex_ ,” Peter said, the tears falling, now. “Not for Ben.”

Tony was stuck with just him, for a while longer, and Peter thoroughly enjoyed their intimacy, but it was going to end, soon enough, and then he’d be able to find other lovers. Ones who were more exciting, or better looking, or just plain better than Peter.

“He needs you, too,” Tony assured him, unable to physically cuddle him and reassure with his hands full of the baby. “He’s not _completely_ on formula, and you know it.”

“Yeah.” He sniffed and ran an impatient hand over his face, wiping his eyes. “I know. Sorry. It’s the _hormones_ , I think.”

He found himself brooding often, lately, and sometimes crying for absolutely no reason. Luckily, most of the time he was able to excuse himself, claiming that he needed to go to the bathroom, or that he was just affected by the onions if he happened to be chopping any. He was going to be done with the contract, soon, now, and as much as he was looking forward to losing the breasts – and the woman parts – he was honest enough (with himself, at least) to admit that he was going to miss Tony and Ben more than he’d expected.

He was going to have a lot of money – Tony had deposited almost 7 million dollars into an offshore bank account for him, under a number rather than his name. This was to keep Peter anonymous as he was trying to decide how he wanted to spend it. It could go into his present bank account, eventually, or it could stay where it was, and the boy could simply use it from the account and not pay any taxes on it. Perfectly legal, the billionaire had assured him the day that he’d had FRIDAY set the account up for Peter, making sure that the boy was the only one who would be able to access it, but also giving him plenty of financial advice as the days went by – just to make sure he didn’t blow through it, frivolously. Peter was set for life, really, if he wanted to be, and Tony made sure of it by pointing out that the contract allowed for bonuses, and that the abuse his nipples were taking was a good reason for providing a housing bonus.

Peter would pick the place that he wanted to live when he was free of the constraints of the contract, and Tony would pay for a house, or an apartment, there. Free and clear, and for no other reason than Tony wanted him to be happy wherever he decided to be.

Stark nodded, trying to not make a big deal out of the tears because he knew that they embarrassed Peter.

“I know, honey. Are you alright?”

“Yes.” He sniffed, again. “Maybe I’ll turn in, early.”

They’d been lounging in front of the TV when Ben had woken hungry and wet, and demanded solutions to both problems, immediately, with thin wails of discontent. Peter had started to get up, but Tony had stopped him with a hand on his thigh. He’d take care of him, Peter could just relax, and put his feet up, for a while longer.

“In my bed?”

The sex _wasn’t_ guaranteed, Tony knew. Another part of the contract. But _he_ was always interested, and was good enough at satiating Peter that he could almost always count on him being willing, as well. He knew he should start weaning himself from the boy, but Tony was thoroughly hooked on him, and despite telling himself pretty much every morning that he wasn’t going to make any suggestions that they end up in the same bed that night. He justified it to himself saying that he’d stopped _drinking_ cold turkey, he could just go cold turkey when the time came, and Peter moved out.

It was a better notion that not having sex with him every chance that he had, after all.

The younger man nodded without hesitation. Stephen had vetoed the vaginal sex, completely, stating concerns for Peter’s health, so they weren’t playing with that particular area, but the loving was still incredibly hot, and while the boy _could_ say no, of course, he wouldn’t. He and Tony fit well together, in bed and out, and the sex was an extension of that. Peter enjoyed trying to make the older man crazy with need for him, and loved watching him writhe under him when he took the initiative and would start making love to Tony’s pretty cock. Sometimes he would pin him down with his negligible weight and ‘force’ Tony to cum in his mouth just so he could savor the flavor of him. Sometimes Tony was too eager to be inside him to allow it, but that was always hot, too.

Even with the restriction on various positions – again, for Peter’s safety – they were always sweaty and satisfied by the time they’d fall asleep in the other’s embrace.

Peter was going to miss that, he knew, but he couldn’t stay away.

“I’ll put out some pajamas for Ben, for you,” he added, leaning over the back of the sofa to watch the baby nurse, and get an idea of how much time he had. “He looks pretty content…”

The baby was still nursing, the bottle of formula about halfway finished, but he was being lazy and not gobbling, and that meant that Tony might be there a while, feeding him, until he’d taken his fill – and then longer to burp him and maybe just hold him for a while. Peter smiled when Ben looked up at him, and he felt his heart flutter at the sight of the baby.

“That he does,” Tony agreed, not noticing that Peter’s eyes were suspiciously moist, again.

Peter left before Tony – or Ben – could see him start crying.

><><><><><><>

It was almost an hour before Tony finally made his way to his bedroom. Benji was asleep, swaddled and clean, freshly burped and perfect as always. FRIDAY was watching him, and would let him and Peter know if he woke needing anything, but the baby had a pretty good routine, by then, and he was a good-natured little guy who rarely cried just to hear the sound of his own voice.

He walked into his bedroom, undressing as he did, and feeling a little sleepy. From watching Benji sleep, he was sure. The billionaire turned off the lights as he reached the bed, now naked. Peter was asleep, he knew, to judge by the soft snores coming from the bed, but that was fine. Tony was all for a good fuck, anytime, but he knew that despite not having the pressure on his system from continually nursing the baby, the younger man was still recovering from the ravages the pregnancy had done to his body, and the more rest he could get, the better off he’d be.

There was plenty of time for sex, later.

Even though he was careful when he slid into the bed, under the blankets, Peter roused, somewhat, when he felt Tony’s warm body move against his own, and felt one powerful arm come around him, to lay a large hand against his lower abdomen. When he’d been heavy with Ben, it was Tony’s way of cradling Peter and the baby at the same time, and it was a habit, now. Peter smiled, sleepily, and rested his own hand over Tony’s.

“He’s asleep?”

“Yeah, honey,” Tony whispered, brushing a very chaste kiss against the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I woke you…”

“S’okay. I’m glad you did.”

The billionaire smiled, because he knew that Peter was trying to seduce him, in his own sleepy way, and experience told him that there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to follow through with anything that he might have said. He was far more asleep than awake, and definitely not horny enough to try to make any moves. Tony forced himself to hold still, to give Peter a chance to settle, again, rather than shift against him and maybe begin the process of waking him. A process that was definitely enjoyable, but could wait until they were more awake. He wanted Peter to get the sleep that he needed.

He brushed another kiss against the boy’s shoulder.

“Go to sleep, honey,” he whispered.

“’kay…” There was a soft sigh. Incredibly sleepy – or maybe _asleep_ , Tony couldn’t see him to be able to tell, and the older man closed his eyes, already almost asleep, himself. Then Peter spoke, so softly that even right beside him, Stark almost missed it. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

“He’s perfect, Peter,” Tony agreed. “You did great.”

“Yeah.”

There was no further conversation, though. Peter had fallen asleep, and Tony wasn’t far behind.


	26. 26

“We’re a day early…”

Strange nodded, and both men decided that the doctor looked a little preoccupied. He’d sounded preoccupied, too, when he’d called Stark that morning, saying that he needed to come over as soon as was convenient for them.

“I’m aware,” he told them. “But I’m going to be… out of touch… for a while, and I want to make sure Peter is transformed back to his true state before I go. Especially since I’m not sure how long I’m going to be gone.”

“A _magician_ thing?” Tony asked, curiously.

“Something like that,” came the somewhat evasive reply.

“Do you need help?” Tony asked.

Fair was fair, after all, and Tony owed Stephen Strange a great deal for all he’d done to help him.

There was a slight smile.

“No. I appreciate the sentiment, though. The Avengers – not even Ironman – can follow me where I need to go.”

Peter frowned.

“You’re not going to be on Earth?”

The Avengers were able to go anywhere on Earth, the boy was certain.

“I’m not even going to be in this dimension.” He didn’t care to discuss that, obviously, because his next comment changed the subject. “Are you ready?”

The boy nodded.

“Yes.”

He didn’t need to really make a gesture, but Strange was a bit of a showman, of course, and he moved his hand with a bit of a flourish, and ended the motion with a snap.

“There.”

Tony frowned, looking at Peter, who was wearing only a robe for this visit.

“He still has breasts.”

“Yes, I know.” The doctor gestured for Peter to get up onto the table – presumably for the final time. “But he doesn’t have the glands producing the hormones, any longer,” he told them both as he pulled on a pair of examination gloves, then opened the robe and nudge Peter’s knees apart, silently asking him to allow him to verify the vagina was gone. “The breasts will shrink back to pre-Benjamin size in a few weeks, maybe sooner. I’m not completely certain.”

Tony looked between Peter’s legs, also, lifting the younger man’s testicles gently out of the way.

“It’s _gone_ …” he said, shaking his head. “That’s incredible.”

“I’m an incredible guy,” Stephen told them with a smirk. He looked at Peter. “How do you feel? Any internal pain?”

The boy shook his head.

“I didn’t feel anything. Maybe a little pressure…? Nothing _hurts_ , though.”

“And it shouldn’t,” he was told. “Your hormones should balance out in just a few weeks.” He looked at Tony. “I know your contract says two weeks, but I’d suggest you make it three, just to be certain he’s back to his usual self.”

“We can amend it,” Tony assured the doctor. “The contract is flexible when it comes to the health issues – Peter’s and Benji’s. Anything we should watch for?”

“Depression is still the biggest concern. Just because he doesn’t have those parts, any longer, it doesn’t mean he’s still not going to be subjected to the emotions. Your testosterone levels will be increasing, though, now,” he added. “Which means your appetite should be increasing, you’ll be more energetic, and you might find yourself a little… randy.”

Tony smiled.

“We can live with that.”

That made Strange roll his eyes. He looked at his watch, and then gave both men a serious look.

“It’s none of my business, but I also think it would be a good idea if the two of you had a long heart to heart discussion…” he said.

“About what?” Peter asked.

“What happens when your contract is up,” was the reply. “If the two of you really want to part ways.”

“Oh.”

Having had his say, the doctor smiled.

“I need to go,” he said. “I’ll check in with you both when I get home.”

“Thanks, Stephen,” Tony said.

“Yes, thank you, very much,” Peter added.

The doctor vanished in his magical way, and the billionaire looked at the younger man.

“I-“

“Benjamin is awake and fussing,” FRIDAY reported.

Peter smiled at the interruption – and was maybe a little relieved.

“Go take care of him,” he suggested. “I’ll start dinner.”

Tony hesitated, but the wail coming from the nursery was unmistakable. His son was hungry – and almost certainly wet.

“Yeah.”

He turned and headed for the other room, and Peter pulled the sheet from the table, dropped it in the hamper, and then headed for the kitchen. Building on the self defense mechanism of preparing himself for the day he separated from Tony and Ben, Peter had pulled back from most active interactions with the infant. He left feeding and changing to Tony, and as a concession to the fact that the billionaire was spending all that time with the baby, he was now doing almost all of the household chores to allow the older man the freedom to focus on Ben’s needs.

He did all of the cooking, the laundry, and the cleaning. He did warm up the bottles and clean the nursery when it was messy, but only in the middle of the night would Tony find the boy feeding the baby, and that was really to allow the billionaire a chance to sleep through the night when he could.

Peter didn’t mind the cooking. He’d spent the last year becoming much more comfortable in the kitchen, and while the year before his basic sustenance had been ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese from a box, he was now capable of much more flavorful and fancy offerings. Dinner that evening, however, wasn’t going to be showcasing that new talent. He was in the process of pulling a frozen lasagna from the freezer when Tony walked in with Ben in his arms. Frozen lasagna was easy, and there would be plenty of leftover for lunch the next day.

“The bottle’s on the stove,” he told him.

It didn’t take much to warm the formula, either, and he’d known it was going to be needed. Stepping back from cuddling Ben all the time didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to assist Tony in every way possible, still.

“Thanks, Peter.”

That was Tony’s _own_ defense mechanism. His young lover was rarely called ‘honey’, now. He was Peter, more often than not, even while they were being intimate. Tony understood what was happening with them. Peter was pulling away to protect himself from the ache of leaving Benji, and he knew it was smart for the younger man to do it. When he’d realized what was going on, he’d accepted it as Peter’s right – and honestly, he’d been impressed with the boy, because Benji was an irresistible little guy and Tony was sure that _he_ wouldn’t have been able to do it. It didn’t mean that it didn’t make Tony ache, though, because that meant Peter was also pulling away from him.

The billionaire had thought long and hard about Peter, and how he felt about the younger man – and how he thought Peter might feel about him. They had spent the past year, now, being monogamous – strictly being only for the other. In many ways – especially for Peter – they were almost like prisoners, and Tony had decided that there was almost certainly some kind of Stockholm syndrome thing going on. Falling in love with someone because they were the only one you saw wasn’t unheard of, and he decided that it didn’t mean that he actually was in love with Peter – or that Peter was in love with him.

It certainly felt that way, of course, but Tony Stark wasn’t sure that he was willing to bet his autonomy with Benji on Peter’s unrequited love – or his own love to the younger man. Peter was going to be ‘freed’ soon, and he would find himself able to be with anyone that he wanted. While the thought panged Tony more than he cared to admit, he was pretty sure that Peter would soon get over any single-mindedness that he might feel for Tony. Yes, Tony knew he was good looking, rich and powerful – and a superhero. Never mind that he also had a very pretty penis. But Peter had been around him, now, and had long since gotten over any hero worship, or awe that he might feel toward him. Peter was rich, now, too, Tony kept reminding himself.

He didn’t need anything from the billionaire, really.

Or at least he wouldn’t once they mutually decided that he was healthy enough to leave.

These thoughts were going through Tony’s mind as he walked to the stove, and pulled the bottle from where it warming in a saucepan of water. He tested it against his lip, making sure it wasn’t too warm – although by now, he knew Peter was adept at making the bottle exactly the perfect temperature.

The boy watched as Tony seated himself at the kitchen island, pressing the nipple against Benjamin’s lower lip, and both men smiled when he started eating, greedily.

“I was thinking about what Stephen was saying,” Peter said, closing the oven door, and wiping his hands. “About the contract.”

Stark nodded, feeling himself tense despite all the things that he’d talked himself into believing.

“Yeah? What are you thinking?”

There was just the slightest of pauses.

“I wanted to make sure that you know you don’t have anything to worry about…” Peter told him. “I know the stipulations. When I’m good to go and we part ways, I won’t come looking for you. Or Ben.”

Tony felt an ache go through him, but he was extremely good at hiding his feelings – even with Peter. It was what made him adept at handling billion dollar deals, after all.

“I appreciate that, Peter,” he told him. “You're an amazing guy. I’m sure you’re going to great things with your life.”

The boy nodded, but couldn’t trust himself to speak, his eyes stinging and a huge lump in his throat.

“Thank you,” he finally managed. He gave a shaky smile, and wiped his eyes. “Stupid hormones must still be hanging out. I think I’m going to go lie down for a while.”

“Need a back rub?” Tony offered.

“No. Ben needs you more than I do, right now.” A soft sniff, and he cleared his throat. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half.”

He turned, but Tony spoke up.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

Tony gave him as confident a smile as he could manage with his heart seeming to be crushed in several spots.

“The whole testosterone thing?” he said. “That Stephen mentioned?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still here for you. For _now_ , I mean. Don’t forget, alright?”

The boy nodded, and even from the other side of the kitchen Tony could see that the tears that had been threatening were now falling.

“Thanks.”

He left, then, but the billionaire was sure that he heard a smothered sob echo through the living room area when he did. Tony looked down at the baby.

“I guess that answers that, buddy,” he crooned, sadly. “Doesn’t it?”

Two weeks. Maybe _three_ , if he could stretch it out that much. Then there would only be the two, where once there had been three. Tony wasn’t looking forward to that day.


	27. 27

_“So are you done, then?”_

Peter shook his head, even though the call was audio only and Ned couldn’t see the motion.

“I have another week, or so, to finish things up. Then I will be.”

_“That’s amazing, Peter,”_ his friend said _. “If you get out in time you could join me and MJ… Let me know, okay?”_

“I don’t think that I will,” Peter replied, looking up when Tony walked into the room. The billionaire was holding Ben, but the baby wasn’t eating or anything; the two were just having some daddy and me time, together. When Peter had decided to call Ned and let him know he was getting close to being done with the year commitment that he’d made, Tony had been cuddling with the baby on the sofa, making weird faces at him and smiling to see Ben smile back. It had been adorable, really, and Peter had had to find a feasible reason to excuse himself. “But it sounds like you’re going to have a good time. Make sure you send me a postcard.”

_“Get me an address to send them to,”_ came the rejoinder.

“I will. Tell MJ hi for me.”

The call ended. Tony had been digging through the pantry with his free hand, clearly looking for something to snack on, but now he looked over.

“That was your friend Ned?”

Peter was able to make calls out, now, even though he wasn’t – quite – ready to leave the estate. His breasts were much smaller than they had been. Not only was he not nursing Ben, but the hormones were leveling themselves out, a bit, too, and he was a much smaller size, now. Less than an A. Which was a relief, really – although he missed having so much substantial flesh for Tony to play with when they were in bed.

And despite his real attempt to wean himself from Tony’s sexual favors, Strange hadn’t been kidding when he’d mentioned that an increase in testosterone was playing havoc with Peter’s libido. Not only was he far more restless than he’d been in a long time, but he was also finding himself hard when he’d done nothing more than brushed a hand along his lap, or had simply touched himself to wash in the shower. He did a lot of masturbating, but it wasn’t enough, really, and there hadn’t been a day, yet, that Peter hadn’t sidled up against Tony, his breathing quickening, and his face and body flush with need.

Luckily – or maybe not, because it wasn’t making a clean break easy – Tony couldn’t seem to resist the idea of putting Peter onto his back, or his belly (which was safe, once more) and driving into him, repeatedly. He was always thorough in his loving, and always made sure that Peter was satiated before he took his own release – which was probably one of the reasons that Peter never could get enough of him.

In the aftermath Tony would always hold him, reminding him as he cuddled the younger man that he was _contractually obligated_ to make sure Peter was satisfied. Peter would eventually doze off, satisfied, for the moment, and wishing there was no contract involved at all.

“It was,” he replied. In the last year, Tony had learned everything there was to know about Peter’s few friends, of course. “He was surprised to hear from me,” Peter added. “I think he forgot about me.”

“I doubt that,” the older man said, sitting at the table with Benjamin in one arm and a granola bar in the other hand. “What has he been up to?”

“He and MJ just finished Spring quarter and are in Europe hanging out, together, for the summer.”

“Oh? I didn’t know they were an item.”

Of course, all he knew was what Peter had told him.

“I didn’t, either,” the boy admitted. “He invited me to come out and join them when I’m done, here.”

“Are you going to?”

“No.” Peter reached over and took the granola bar from Tony, opening it for him before handing it back. “I’m not going to really be in the mood to travel much,” he added. “Not with the whole hormone thing.”

“Is it still bad?”

Tony knew Peter was still having some mood swings; he’d catch the boy crying, sometimes, and Peter would wipe his eyes, and say it was just the hormones acting up.

“Only sometimes,” he assured him. “Usually, I’m fine. Better each day, even.”

Tony didn’t look any happier about that than Peter felt. The older man schooled his expression, though – he was doing a lot of that, recently – and nodded.

“Have you decided where you want to live?”

As a final bonus for a job well done, Tony had offered to buy Peter the residence of his choice – and a new car to get from point A to point B. The car, which was a sensible sedan, but a really nice one, had been delivered to the estate the day before. The new residence was a different matter, though, because Peter didn’t know exactly where he wanted to live. A little house out in the middle of nowhere? Or an apartment right downtown? Tony was a billionaire, and Peter appreciated the offer and was going to take him up on it. The contract had made allowances for this kind of thing, right from the beginning, and Peter hadn’t considered that it would be something that Tony would want to do, but he wasn’t going to say no. Real estate was expensive – even for someone who was now, officially, a millionaire.

“You're moving back to the apartment?”

“Yes.” The older man looked at the baby he was holding, smiling down at him when Benjamin looked up at him and smiled, too. “I think it’ll work better for us to be closer to everything.”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down at his phone. “I think the apartment in Queens will be good for me,” he said, not looking up. “Its close to school, and it’s nice and big – but not so big that I’ll be rattling around in it.”

He didn’t need a job, of course, and had no intention of getting one right away – although he knew that he’d want to have something to do once he was finished with his schooling. He’d need to keep busy, to distract himself.

Tony nodded.

“I’ll have FRIDAY take care of the purchase, today or tomorrow, and you can start ordering furniture for it, and whatever else you need. That way it’s ready to move in whenever you’re ready to leave, here.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Peter said, feeling a little weepy at just how much he was willing to do for him.

“You’re welcome,” the older man said, wishing there was more he could do to show Peter how grateful he was for everything he’d done.

><><><><><>

A soft cry woke Peter from a restless sleep. He felt Tony’s arm tighten around him, and he squeezed the older man’s forearm.

“I’ll get him,” he murmured, softly. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

The question even _sounded_ sleepy, but he knew if he didn’t want to get up, Tony would.

“Yeah.”

There was a sleepy noise of assent and the other man body went lax, once more as he did what he was told.

Peter slipped out of Tony’s embrace, and then out of his bed, reaching for a robe against the slight chill that he felt once he was away from the blankets and the man’s warmth. He walked down the short hall to the nursery, and the light came on, conveniently, to illuminate the baby, who was crying louder, now, his little red face making sure the whole world knew that he was hungry – and that he’d soiled his diaper.

“Shhh…” Peter picked the baby up, blanket and all, and crooned to him. “You’ll wake up your daddy.”

Ben didn’t seem too concerned, but the outraged cries softened with the tender words and the loving tone. Peter expertly changed the dirty diaper, and put a new one on, and then put a clean onesie on the little guy. Wrapping him in a blanket, he carried him to the kitchen and made up a bottle, one-handed, warmed it up on the stove and then tested it on his lip, much like Tony did when he was feeding the baby. Ben accepted the nipple, eagerly, and Peter settled into a soft chair, holding the bottle in one hand and the baby in the other.

He smiled down at Ben, who was watching him.

“I’m sure going to miss you,” he said, softly. “I can’t even imagine how amazing you’re going to be and all the incredible things that you’re going to do.” He felt the sting of tears, but turned his head to wipe them on his shoulder. “I’m not going to see you, again, after tomorrow, but don’t be afraid. You’re in good hands, and once I’m safely out of the way, you get to meet all your Avenger aunts and uncles, and I bet they’re going to love you.”

He bit his lower lip, feeling the depression trying to overwhelm him, but forced it down, determined to have his final say with the boy that would never know him, and determined that he wasn’t going to let Ben’s last feeding with him be tinged with sadness. Peter bent over, and pressed the gentlest of kisses against that forehead with the curls so similar to his own.

“ _I_ love you, too,” he confessed, in a whisper. “And I always will.”


	28. 28

“Are you _sure_ you’re ready to leave…?” Tony asked. “You could stay another week, or two – just to make sure.”

Peter nodded, although he wanted to take that offer pretty much more than anything. He _was_ ready. Physically. He’d spent three weeks, just as Stephen had suggested. He’d worked out in the small gym pretty much every day, had taken several long walks (by himself, unfortunately, since the weather hadn’t been great and they didn’t really want Ben outside, yet, except for doctor appointments) and – of course – had had 21 more days of exciting and inventive sex with Tony. His body was in great shape from all the exercise, and there were only the scar, the stretchmarks that were fading a bit, and slightly puffy breasts to show the craziness that he’d put it through.

As far as the rest, mental and emotionally, he wasn’t going to ever be ready, he instinctively knew. But he also knew that the more he drew things out and stayed, the harder it would be. Not only on him, but on Tony, as well. Bad enough that he was doing it to himself, he didn’t want to do anything to hurt the older man, who was so wonderful.

“I better not…” he replied, forcing a smile. “You need to back into your routine, and if I’m here, you can’t do that. Besides, I have to go unpack the apartment…”

His new place – bought and paid for and now in his name – was waiting for him. He’d been told to order everything that he’d need to furnish it and supply it, and the last couple of days he and FRIDAY had been busy picking out furniture, the smaller appliances (coffee pot, toaster, blender), linens, bedding, dishes and even the first set of groceries – which meant that he didn’t even need to stop anywhere on the way. He might, though. It had been a full year and then some, now, since he’d started this crazy venture and even though he was going to miss Tony and Ben, he was definitely ready to see the rest of the world, and maybe get something from a fast food place for dinner.

Or a pizza.

Tony hesitated. He’d woken that morning aching inside with the knowledge that it was going to be the last time he woke next to Peter. The last time that he felt the younger man’s body beside his. Felt his smooth skin under his hand, or the handful of flesh that he’d squeezed when he found his ass, even under the blankets. He’d slid that hand around to the front, gentle fingers tracing a pattern along Peter’s cock and then stroking it, leisurely, feeling a pang of pleasure mixed with sorrow as he felt Peter’s ardor rise, making him hard, and filling Tony’s hand.

Then he’d made love to him, one last time. Had rolled Peter onto his back and had slowly worked his way along the boy’s body, tasting him, everywhere, feeling him, caressing him. Catching as many memories as he could of everything that that he was going to miss. It seemed that Peter felt the same way, because the younger man’s responsive body was even more so than usual. Peter, too, was making love to Tony, even as Stark finally nudged those long legs apart and slid himself into him. Peter had arched against the invasion, making a noise of satisfaction that had Tony groaning and fighting to control himself. Their completion had been one of the most satisfying ever, but had also been bittersweet, knowing that it was the last time for them.

Tony had cradled him against his body for a while, and had then pulled him into the shower, washing him, lovingly, and then kissing him, deeply. He might have said more, then, to try and convince Peter to wait a few more days, even, but FRIDAY had announced that Benji was awake and fussing. Peter had smiled, and had sent Tony to tend to the baby, and said he’d make them breakfast before he packed his clothes and other things into his new car.

And here they were.

“Is there anything you need?”

It wasn’t even close to the first time Tony had asked.

“I’m set, Tony,” the boy assured him. He reached into his pocket to make sure the car keys were in there, and then turned to glance at the baby sleeping in the bassinet before turning back to him. “Take care of him.”

“I will.” He hesitated. “If you need anything…”

“I’ll handle it, myself,” Peter promised. He’d already assured the billionaire that he didn’t have to worry about him coming and looking for him. “Thank you.”

Tony nodded, feeling a lump in his throat that threatened to keep him from breathing, much less speaking, and he had to swallow and clear his throat before he could trust that any words would come.

“Thank _you_ , Peter.”

The boy reached for his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, and then picked up his small bag – everything else was in the car, waiting. He looked around the room, once more, and then turned and left, closing the door, quietly, behind him to avoid waking Ben.

Tony walked to the window, watching as Peter went to the rear of the car and opened the trunk, tossed the backpack and the bag into the back, closed it, and then got behind the wheel of the car. It turned over, immediately, even though the billionaire had one last hope that maybe the brand new car would have some kind of crazy stall and wouldn’t be able to take Peter away from him that morning.

A moment later Peter was gone, and the privacy gate closed behind him.

Tony stared out the window for a long time, his mind a million miles away. A soft noise from the bassinet drew his attention from his bleak thoughts, and he turned from the window, moving over to look at his son.

“Well…” he murmured, watching Benji wake up, and open his eyes. “It’s you and me, now, buddy.” Feeling restless, he glanced at his watch, just make sure of the day and the time. “Why don’t we go to the tower?” he asked. “I’ll introduce you to Pepper?” He reached into the bassinet and picked the baby up, cuddling him. “She’s going to be shocked, and we might as well get that out of the way as soon as possible.”

Benji didn’t say no, so Tony carried him into the nursery to get him dressed for his day.

><><><><>

The apartment was incredible. Peter had seen pictures and a virtual tour, but it was the first time he’d actually been inside it, and he dropped the key on the stand next to the door as he closed the door behind him. It was tastefully decorated, although maybe just missing a few items that Peter hadn’t known if he wanted to get, or not. There was a sofa – of course – and a coffee table, because he loved having his feet propped up on one when sitting on the sofa. The dining area of the open area floorplan held a small table with four matching chairs. Peter had lost touch with everyone the past year, and aside from Ned and MJ, he didn’t care, really.

He wasn’t in the mood to call anyone and see if they wanted to come over, after all, so how many chairs did he really need? A glance into the bedroom showed him the new bed, with the warm comforter – even though it was summer and he wasn’t going to be cold. There was a large TV on the wall, and a closet filled with clothes. The bathroom that was attached had all the toiletries that he needed, and he had a few that he’d brought with him from Tony’s.

Peter dropped his backpack and his bag on the bed, and walked through the rest of the apartment. A small den, a guestroom, and another bathroom and a fair amount of storage space. Even a laundry room, which was a nice touch. The kitchen was spacious and the appliances were all brand new and high end.

He was set.

He went back to the living room, sat down on the sofa and cried.


	29. 29

He found that if he kept busy, he could distract himself – somewhat.

The first couple of weeks after he left Tony’s estate went by quickly. Peter had spent the last year getting haircuts from Tony – who wasn’t that great at it, despite making an honest effort to learn via YouTube. As a consequence, he definitely needed a haircut. He went to his regular barber, and wasn’t surprised that the man didn’t recognize him. He had his hair cut shorter than usual for him, and left the place running his fingers through his hair, thinking that maybe he should have just shaved his head bald. Common sense took over, though – he’d have sunburned his scalp if he had done that, and that wouldn’t have been comfortable at all, now would it?

He thought about going shopping for new clothes. He was a millionaire, now, after all, and a glance in his closet showed jeans and t-shirts for the most part. Maybe he needed a couple of suits? He went to a tailor and spent an afternoon being fussed over. Measured and complimented, and fed tiny sandwiches in between choosing fabrics and colors and even a new pair of dress shoes. That had taken up some of the time that he seemed to have so much of, lately.

Peter also did a lot of walking. He walked through the streets around his apartment building. The neighborhood wasn’t super deluxe, but it was clean, and secure, and safe, and there were countless little shops all around it that Peter spent days looking through – although he was frugal by nature and didn’t really buy anything too crazy from any of them. He enjoyed being able to be out and about, again, and seeing people around him.

He signed up for a few online classes to keep him busy at night, too, because nights were the hardest time for him. He missed having Tony to talk to about whatever he was looking at, and ached when he thought about holding Ben and feeding him, crooning to him as the baby looked up at him with those brown eyes that were so similar to Tony’s. When it would get bad for him – and it did, sometimes – he’d cry, softly, into a pillow, and then would force himself to think about something else. A video game that he was playing, or a complicated meal that he was cooking. Sometimes even a movie he was watching, although that was harder, because it didn’t distract him, often.

He worked out. A lot. Took up running and would jog until he felt ready to drop, but would also be tired enough that sometimes he even managed to sleep through the lonely nights. He spent time in a gym down the street from his apartment, but he was too focused on the aches inside to make any friends – even when some pretty woman, or good looking guy would smile at him, invitingly. Peter stayed as busy as he could.

It was all just a way to pass time, and for a while, it worked.

Then the news broke that Tony Stark had a baby, and it was all that anyone was talking about. At the gym. At the shops. Even on the online video game that he played with the strangers from all over the world. The internet was filled with the one image of Ben that Tony had allowed out: a picture of the billionaire with his son in his arms, sleeping. No mention of the boy’s mother. No mention of any other family. Someone had managed an interview with Captain America, who was asked about Benjamin Stark, and the superhero had smiled and mentioned that they were all excited by the baby, and were in love with him, already.

Peter had smiled, sadly, his eyes glued to those of the baby in the picture, and he’d eventually torn the photo out of the newspaper and tucked it, carefully, into his pocket.

He found the park while he’d been running, one day. There was a running trails (which was how he’d found it, obviously), and some park benches along the trail. There was an area for people to take their dogs off their leashes and let them run around in a fenced in area, and there was a playground. A popular one, it turned out. Peter stopped to rest the hitch in his side, and watched as those parents or nannies played with their children, or watched as their children played with the other children. Slides, swings, a little wooden place to crawl around that was supposed to look like a pirate ship, they were all in use, and the air rang with the sound of laughter and children giggling and shouting, happily.

Peter found himself going to the park every day to watch the children. He didn’t get too close; he didn’t want to make the adults nervous of his presence, and he never approached anyone. He would just sit on a park bench a fair distance away, holding the newspaper clipping of Ben, and watch the children play. He ached so much, sometimes, that he seemed to not be able to breath, and other times he just felt empty. Both were unhealthy, he knew, but there wasn’t anything that he could do. He began to stop going to the gym. Stopped running, and sometimes forgot to eat – and he rarely slept, anymore.

None of it mattered.

One day he got mugged when he’d arrived at the park a bit earlier than the rest of the world woke up and went out to play. He hadn’t had any cash on him, and he never used his phone, anyway, so it wasn’t a great loss. The concierge of his apartment building stopped him a week later on his way into the lobby one evening, and handed him his wallet. Someone had found it and brought it to his address. Peter stopped carrying it, deciding that then he wouldn’t need to worry about someone trying to take it. He didn’t need money, because he couldn’t buy what he wanted most, now could he?

One day, he forgot to go home. He just sat on the bench as it grew dark, and stared at the playground until it emptied of people, and then stared at the picture of Ben. It rained that night, but he didn’t even notice. He didn’t notice the chill in the air the next morning, either, until a jogger stopped at his bench and asked if he was alright.

Peter nodded, forcing as genuine a smile as he could, and thanked the woman for asking. She went on her way, and he looked over as a man brought his son into the playground, everything else forgotten as he watched the two interact.

“You can’t hang out in the same place everyday…”

The voice nearby startled him, and he turned to look to his side – and found an older man with lanky, oily, hair and an unshaven face looking at him. From the man’s clothing, it was clear that he hadn’t had a chance to clean himself up in a while.

“What?”

The man smiled, sadly at him.

“You can’t stay in one place, kid. If you do you make a target of yourself – and the cops will run you off, as a vagrant.”

“Oh.”

Another homeless man walked up, and this one was eating a sandwich.

“Who’s this?” he asked the first.

“No clue. New guy, I guess.” The man turned to him. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Peter.”

“I’m Sam, and this is Gus.”

“Hey.”

“Are you hungry, Peter?” Gus asked, tearing his sandwich in half and offering part to the boy, who took it, numbly.

“Thank you.”

“Are you alright?” Sam asked, as Peter gobbled the sandwich down in a couple of bites.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Neither man seemed to agree.

“Got a place to stay?”

“Oh. Yes. Thanks.”

He didn’t make a move to get up, though, and Sam looked at his friend and shook his head. Clearly he was new at the homeless thing, now wasn’t he?

“Come with us, Peter,” Sam offered. “We have a place you can rest.”

The boy shook his head, his eyes on the playground.

“No. I appreciate it, though. I’m good.”

The two men moved on, respecting his desire to be alone, but that evening they were back, finding Peter on the same bench they’d left him, that morning. With no children to watch, Peter accepted their offer, this time, and Sam and Gus took him to a doorway just off the west entrance to the park. The men fed him some soup, and another sandwich, and then covered him with a blanket and told him to get some sleep.

Peter did, but the next morning found him right back at ‘his’ bench, and once more watching the playground.

It became a pattern. He’d spend his days in the park on the bench, watching the children. He’d spend his nights sleeping in the doorway with the two men, who it turned out were both veterans, but had somehow fallen through the VA cracks. Both men were living on stipends, and social security checks that didn’t even come close to covering what rent would be, so they lived in the park in the spring, summer, and fall, and were in a homeless shelter in the winter when it was too dangerous to be outside for any long periods of time. They told Peter their history, and tried to get some of his own – mainly because both men intended to find out who his family was and see if they could get him back in touch with them.

Peter didn’t tell them much, and he was so numb that sometimes he wasn’t even completely sure if he’d told them that he had an apartment to live in, he just didn’t have the energy to go there and sleep. He didn’t have the energy to do anything, really.

He developed a cough from being out in the cold that had Gus and Sam trying to convince him to go to the free clinic and have it checked, but Peter just shrugged, and said he would, later. He was plenty warm in the daytime, and shivering on the chillier of evenings wasn’t that big of a deal to him, even as he pulled the thin blanket around his weakened body.

><><><><><>

He was sitting on the bench the day that Stephen Strange came looking for him. Wearing an impeccable suit and a worried frown, the surgeon looked aghast at the boy – once he’d determined that it really, was, him.

“Peter?”

The young man turned, looking up in surprise.

“Stephen… hey. You’re back already?”

“It’s been _months_.” Strange looked around. “Where’s Tony?”

“I don’t know. Working, I guess.”

“Does he know where you are?”

Peter shook his head, overcome with a coughing fit.

“No.”

Truth be told, _he_ wasn’t even sure where he was. He felt a hand rest against his forehead and then the palm ran along his now unshaven cheek. Peter couldn’t grow a real beard, or anything, but the stubble was sparse and did nothing to cover the sharp lines in his face and jaw.

“What?”

“I’m not allowed to look for him,” Peter reminded the man, his hand in his pocket, clenching around the now worn photo of Ben.

“You're burning up.”

“I’m just a little chilly, is all.”

“When did you eat, last?”

“This morning.”

That was true enough.

“Have you spent all of your money, already?”

“I don’t think… I’m not sure.”

The doctor made a noise that Peter couldn’t identify, and the hand that had been on his forehead and cheek now came under his arm, pulling him to his feet.

“Come with me.”


	30. 30

“Who is he?”

Stephen looked at Wong, and then back at the boy sleeping in the large bed. Small to begin with, and thinner than the doctor had seen him – even at the beginning of his pregnancy – he looked even smaller now. Strange hadn’t even bothered to put the boy in his car to get him home. One of the perks of being a sorcerer supreme, after all, was instant mobility. He’d simply walked with Peter until they reached an isolated area. One moment they were by a porta-potty, the next they were standing right inside the entrance of the sanctum, with the Cloak of Levitation swooping over to see who was visiting.

It was a measure of how numb Peter was that he hadn’t freaked out at the transport, and didn’t stare when the cloak hovered close at hand as Strange walked him into the main area telling him where he was, and advising that he was safe, there. He’d directed Peter into the shower, had found him a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt to wear, fed him a bowl of soup and some rolls, and had dosed him with a cough medicine that was laced with codeine before putting him to bed in the guest room.

“He’s a friend of a friend,” Strange replied. “Maybe a friend, by now? An acquaintance, anyway.”

“Is he in danger?”

“Not in the sense that you’re thinking. There isn’t anything magical about him, or dangerous. He’s just tired and sick.”

And almost certainly depressed, but the doctor didn’t add that/

Wong frowned, looking at the boy.

“If he’s sick, shouldn’t he be in the hospital?”

“There’s nothing they can do for him that I can’t,” was the reply. Confident, but not arrogant. “He needs rest and someone to take care of him.”

“And you’re going to do that?” The other man’s expression was uncertain. He knew Strange wasn’t a complete asshole, of course, but he also knew the man wasn’t all that altruistic, really. “You?”

Stephen shook his head and smiled, slightly.

“Only for the moment,” he told his friend. “Long enough to make sure he’s safe and not a danger to himself – and to make sure he’s merely suffering from a cough, and a chill, and nothing more serious. “I have someone else in mind to take over the rest of it.”

“Who?”

“I’ll let you know when I introduce you.” He looked down at himself, making sure that he hadn’t been wrinkled, or worse, in the day’s activities, and looked at his watch. It was late in the evening, but that was only to the good. He wouldn’t have to worry about finding Tony anywhere but home. “Keep an eye on him for me, will you? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Wong frowned.

“What if he wakes up?”

“Feed him a bowl of soup and more cough syrup. He’ll go back to sleep, I assured you.”

“Alright. But don’t be _long_.”

“Of course.”

The doctor vanished from the room, and Wong looked at the cloak, who seemed to be looking at him, as well – and maybe just as uncomfortable. They didn’t have a lot of guests in the sanctum, and there was a reason for that.

“I’m going to go to the library,” he told the ancient relic. “Watch him and come get me if he wakes.”

He left, but didn’t close the guest room door, just in case. The cloak wasn’t his to command, after all, and it might watch the boy for a while, but then get bored and wander off. If that happened, he wanted to be able to hear if he was needed.

><><><><>

_“Stephen Strange just walked into the lobby…”_

Tony frowned, glanced down at the baby that he was holding in one arm and the bottle he was holding in the other hand.

“He must be done with his mission,” Stark said, more to himself than to Benji or FRIDAY. “Let him in when he gets to the door, will you?”

He had his hands full, after all.

He carried his son from the kitchen where he’d been preparing the bottle and out into the living room, but didn’t settle on the sofa, or in the rocking recliner, just yet. He _did_ offer Benji the nipple, but they had the usual few moments of fussiness before he began eating.

There was a light knock on the door, and then it opened, and Stephen walked into the foyer area. Tony noted, somewhat sourly, that despite the late hour the man looked like he’d just come from a board meeting, perfectly groomed and every hair in place. He, himself, was wearing a pair of lounge pants and a well-worn t-shirt, having been woken up by Benji’s cries half an hour before.

“Tony…”

“Stephen. It’s been a while.”

“For you, maybe,” was the reply. “Time works differently in the other dimensions. I was only there for a couple of weeks.” He looked at the baby in the other man’s arms. “He’s big.”

“Six months old, yester,” Tony said, proudly.

“He looks good.” The baby was bigger than he’d been when Stephen had seen him last, of course, and was a bit squirmier, as well. He held out his hands. “May I?”

“Yeah, of course.” Tony handed Benji over, and the baby looked up at the newcomer, his mouth still latched tight to the nipple of the bottle as he nursed. “You’re just getting done with your mission?”

Strange shook his head, his expression slightly amused at the verbiage.

“ _Avengers_ have missions,” he said. “A sorcerer supreme has _objectives_.”

That made Stark smile.

“Oh. You’re done with your _objective_ , then?”

“Yes. So I thought I would come check on you and Peter, and see how things were going.”

Tony lost his amused look.

“I’m doing okay. Busy, with Benji and with Stark Industries, and the _Avengers_ , of course. I don’t know how Peter is doing. I kept track of him for a couple of weeks after he moved out of the estate… but he seemed to be doing alright. He joined a gym, bought some new suits, and signed up for online classes – presumably because he was too late for Summer term at school. I know he was invited out to Europe with some friends of his, but I haven’t checked to see if he actually went.”

This was all said in a rush, and Tony hoped that he didn’t sound quite as pathetic as he felt like he sounded. He’d basically had FRIDAY stalking Peter those first few weeks. He’d been busy with Benji, yes – and introducing him to Pepper and then to the Avengers, and fielding a million questions about the baby, and where he’d come from. (and _no_ , Pepper, he hadn’t kidnapped someone else’s baby, the kid has his eyes, there’s no doubt that he was Tony’s). But in the evenings, after putting the little guy down for the last time after his dinner, he’d been so achingly alone that even just knowing what Peter was up to by tracking his financial records was better than nothing.

He’d decided that he was pathetic, and that if Peter was moving forward with his life without Tony and Benji, then Tony needed to do the same for him and his son, and had forced himself not to peek in on what he was doing. But how he missed him. And Benji must have missed him, too, because the late night feedings were the hardest, with the baby fussing and unhappy, and sometimes crying for half an hour or more before finally accepting the bottle and then falling asleep, too tired to complain, further.

“I can tell you that he _didn’t_ ,” Strange said.

Tony bit the inside of his lower lip.

“You _saw_ him? How is he?”

“I saw him,” Strange confirmed. “I found him in Astoria Park, sitting on a park bench, looking as if he hasn’t showered in weeks or eaten or slept in days.”

“What?”

“What’s more; he’s _sick_. Lack of nourishing food, exposure… who knows? He has a wracking cough, and was chilled when I found him, despite the pleasant temperature.”

“Peter’s sick?” Tony turned. “FRIDAY? Did he spend all his money?”

_“Balance of the account I set up is $7,899,034.34,”_ came the instant reply.

“What’s he doing in the park, then, playing hobo?” Tony asked, confused.

“He was watching a playground,” Stephen replied. “My guess – without actually _asking_ him – is that he is suffering from depression. Postpartum, perhaps. Certainly something similar, if not that, specifically. I warned you that it was a possibility.”

“He said he was _fine_ ,” Stark said. “I asked him to stay longer, and he said he needed to go.”

“Did you talk to him about staying? On a _permanent_ basis?”

The billionaire shook his head.

“He didn’t really let me…” he trailed off. “Where is he, now? Tell me you didn’t let him stay in the park…?”

“I took him to the sanctum.”

“I need to see…” Tony hesitated, looking uncertain. “Do you think I should see him? Would it make him worse?”

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Peter.

“I suppose it would depend on what you were going to say to him…”

“Oh.”


	31. 31

They didn’t leave immediately. Tony was hesitant to bring Benji with him if Peter was sick, but didn’t have a person who live-in to take care of him, preferring to do all of that himself, and maintain his privacy. He did have an assistant for during the day. Strange assured him that from wat he could tell, Peter’s illness wasn’t something that could be caught from close contact; it was the product of exposure and the boy not taking care of himself, or eating properly. Benjamin would be fine if he came along, and he didn’t really want to drag things out, really. He’d obviously not been clear enough with the two men before he’d left them, the last time, and he wanted this figured out as soon as possible, one way or the other.

Stark finished Benji’s feeding, and then dressed the little guy before putting him in his carrier and covering him with a warm blanket.

“I’ll meet you there?” he asked, picking the carrier up and reaching for his car keys.

“I didn’t drive,” Strange told him. “So you can give me a ride home, or I can transport us. Whichever you’re most comfortable with.”

“Will it hurt Benji?”

“He won’t even know what’s happening.”

Tony had never been ‘transported’, so he was curious enough to see it done that he was willing. A moment later, he, his son, and Stephen were standing in the entrance to the sanctum. The billionaire had only been there once, before, but there was no mistaking the place for anything else. He ducked when the flying cloak came swooping in, but the thing didn’t attack him, or anything. It just hovered close at hand.

Stephen gave him enough time to get his bearings and look around a moment, but then he reached over and took Benji’s carrier from Tony, and pointed to the broad staircase that dominated the room.

“Peter’s in the first room on the left side of the landing.” Tony nodded, not at all concerned about leaving the baby with Strange but unable to help a final parting shot as he headed for the stairs. “Don’t let your flying carpet play with Benji.”

He heard a soft snort of amusement, but was halfway up the stairs by then, his eyes fixed on that solid wooden door that was the first to the left. He hesitated only a moment before putting his hand on the knob and knocking, softly, before entering the room. The billionaire frowned, closing the door behind him, and looking around the room. It was a fairly large space with a dresser and a bed, and a stand next to the bed. No torches in sconces on the walls, though, or dark drapes, or medieval banners or anything, which he had half expected to find. The bed, too, was normal enough, although large, and Peter was asleep in it, just like Stephen had said.

Tony walked over, his eyes only for the boy, now. He couldn’t see under the blankets that were covering him, but he noticed, immediately, that the boy was much thinner than he’d been when Tony had seen him last. His face was narrower, and there were lines of worry and stress, even asleep. Peter’s hair needed trimmed, and he was actually sporting some facial hair – although it was patchy. He looked shabby. Certainly not what a millionaire should look like, Tony thought, as he knelt down next to the bed to put himself on the same level as Peter.

He reached out a hand, brushing fingertips along that too thin cheek, and then along Peter’s jaw, and his temple. When the boy didn’t stir at the touch, he cleared his throat – which suddenly had a lump in it, and spoke up.

“Peter?”

Whether it was the touch, or the voice, the younger man stirred, a little.

“Hmmm…?”

The sound was followed by a soft cough, not hacking, but deep and enough to make Tony frown, worried. Surely Stephen would have taken him to the hospital if it were really serious?

“Peter,” he said, again, a little louder, and with another brush of fingers against the boy’s cheek. “Honey? Wake up for me.”

Peter opened his eyes, looking right into Tony’s but dazed and clearly not focused, completely, on what he was seeing right away. Then he frowned, and coughed, again.

“Tony?” He looked around, but didn’t lift his head from the pillow his cheek was resting on. “You’re here?”

“Yeah, honey. I’m here.”

He rested his palm on Peter’s cheek, so happy to see him that he felt his eyes stinging.

“Where are we?”

“Stephen’s place,” The billionaire replied. He watched Peter’s eyes. Those eyes that he loved so much. But they were tired, and dull, and he could see the confusion in them. “The sanctum. You don’t remember him bringing you here?”

Peter shook his head as well as he could.

“I don’t think…” he frowned. “You’re here?”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t be here…”

Tony’s stomach clenched, and he felt a pang go through his core, from his groin to his throat, his entire being hurt at those words, and the rejection that he perceived them to mean.

“Why?”

“Because the contract…” Peter replied, and he was stopped by a coughing fir that made him turn his face into the pillow for a long moment, before he turned back, looking even more exhausted. “You’re not supposed to come… The contract….”

Tony smiled, relieved that that was the only reason. He leaned forward a little, resting his hand on the boy’s cheek once more.

“The contract says that you can’t come looking for _me_ , honey,” he said. “It doesn’t say anything about me coming to look for _you_.”

He didn’t need to verify that; he already had when he’d had FRIDAY stalking Peter after the boy had moved out of the estate.

“It doesn’t?”

“No, honey.” He smiled, and gently stroked Peter’s cheek. “And even if it did. I’d still have come.”

The boy smiled; either at the tenderness in Tony’s expression and touch, or the words that he spoke.

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” The older man paused, just for a moment, trying to decide if he looked a little less dazed. He had more to say to Peter, but he wanted to make sure that he was well enough to grasp what he was saying. Then he said it, anyway, because it just spilled out. “I love you, Peter Parker. And I can’t handle not being with you, and having you with me.”

Those brown eyes widened, and then filled with tears. Tony made a soft noise, and Peter shook his head, holding his hand up before the man could say anything.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

A fit of coughing, but Peter impatiently cleared his lungs and sat up a little, resting his weight on his elbow so he could focus better. Tony moved, too, coming up to sit on the edge of the bed and using his thumb to wipe tears from Peter’s cheek.

“Yes. Really. I’ve been… it’s so hard to not have you with me. I miss you… and I want to be with you.”

Peter sniffed, wiping his face with one of his sleeves.

“What about the contract?”

“What contract?”

“The one that says I can’t go near you. Or Ben. I can’t… you’ll have to worry about me wanting to share custody of him, or-“

“Peter.” The older man’s voice was much calmer than the boy’s, and he reached out and put his hands on Peter’s shoulder’s, noticing how bony they’d become, but ignoring that for the moment. “I’m not worried about you wanting to share custody of Benji. I’m more worried about you not wanting to be with me…”

“What?”

Tony smiled; Jesus, he was adorable – even when he was sick, and tired, and confused.

“I want to be with you. And I want you to be with me. I’ve missed you. Benji misses you. You don’t have to _marry_ me – not this _moment_ , anyway – but I need you to know that I’m not going to let a stupid contract that I signed when I didn’t know how amazing you are keep me away from you.”

“Oh.”

Tony decided that he’d probably thrown a bit too much at the boy. Especially when he wasn’t at his best, anyway, and had just woken up.

“I missed you.”

He’d said it already, but it bore repeating. And it was a simple enough statement that Peter wouldn’t need to think too hard about it.

“I missed you, too...”

Those beautiful eyes filled with tears, again, but Tony just gathered Peter into his arms and hugged him, close, feeling a huge relief when he felt the boy’s arms come around him, holding him, too. Tony turned his head and kissed Peter’s ear, which was perfectly positioned for him to whisper into it.

“I love you.”

Another sniff, and a cough that wasn’t at all romantic, but it was Peter, and that was all that mattered.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry about the delay on this. Hope it was worth the wait!


	32. 32

Another cough in Tony’s ear, and he pulled back after a moment, looking at Peter with concern.

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I’m not sure what happened… or if it _still is_ …”

“Stephen says that you’re sick,” Tony told him, gently, bringing his hand up to brush the back of his fingers against Peter’s forehead and cheek. “You’re definitely thinner than you were when I saw you last. He said he found you in the park this morning.”

“Oh.” Peter shrugged, looking away. “I don’t know. I’m just so sad… and empty. And _lonely_.”

“I should have known it would happen,” Tony said, hugging him. “Stephen told me that it was a possibility.” He’d told both of them, of course, but Peter wasn’t going to be able to self-diagnose depression, now was he? “I shouldn’t have let you leave.”

“Until I was better?”

“At all,” was the reply. “I missed you, too, and Benji missed you.” He pulled back, looking at him, again. He couldn’t get enough looking at him – even as thin as scruffy as he was, then. “He’s _here_ ,” he added, hoping that it would make Peter perk up a bit. “Do you want to see him?”

“I’m sick?”

“Yes.”

“I shouldn’t go near him, then… I don’t want him to get sick, too.”

Even as he said it, he clung tightly to Tony. Yes, he could be getting Tony sick, too, but he could accept not seeing Ben – for the moment – but he couldn’t handle not seeing Tony, too. Not just then, anyway. Luckily, the older man seemed to understand, and he was fine with holding Peter as much as he needed.

“Why don’t we talk to Stephen?” he asked, gently, turning his head, again, to kiss Peter’s cheek. “He’s a doctor, right? He’ll know what we should do. For you, and for me and Benji.”

Peter didn’t lift his face from Tony’s neck, but he nodded, his acceptance of the suggestion.

“Okay.”

><><><><><>

“Since we’re not completely sure what is causing Peter’s cough, I’d say it isn’t a bad idea to err on the side of caution and keep Benjamin from him for a few days.” Strange was in the room with them, and Tony wasn’t on the bed, now, because Stephen was giving the boy a check-up. The doctor had taken his temperature, had checked lymph nodes, had even shined a light into Peter’s eyes and down his throat, looking for any irritation. And found plenty. He also tested all of Peter’s reflexes, and had him get out of the bed long enough to remake it with a gesture of his hand. “I doubt that it’s more than simple exposure… How long were you at the park, Peter?”

More awake and aware, now, but still somewhat dazed, the younger man tried to remember, but had to shake his head.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Sam or Gus might be able to tell you, but I don’t remember too much. Just sitting on the bench…”

“Who are Sam and Gus?”

“A couple of guys who live in the park. They took care of me.”

“What’s the plan, Stephen?” Tony asked, frowning at the idea of anyone taking care of Peter but him. “Do I take him home with me?”

“Were you not paying attention to what I just said?” Strange asked, rolling his eyes. “I want to keep him away from your son for a few days. Are you planning on having Benjamin stay here?”

Which made Stark scowl, but not in annoyance, and they all knew it. He just hated when he was called out on something.

“No. But I’m not going to let Peter go back to the park, obviously. Do you think he’d be alright at his place…?”

Alone? But it went unsaid – although they all were thinking it.

“No. He’ll stay here, where I can monitor his condition – and his recovery.” He held up a hand before Peter could protest about being a bother. “It’s here, or it’s in a hospital,” he told the boy, firmly. “I want you carefully monitored. Physically as well as emotionally and mentally.”

“I’m not crazy,” Peter told him.

“No. I know. But depression can do odd things to a person, and since I’m home and should be for a few weeks before anything might possibly come up, I happen to be free to keep an eye on you.”

“But I can come visit?” Tony asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, and reaching for Peter’s hand, even though he was watching Stephen. “To make sure he knows I haven’t forgotten about him? And to tell him what Benji is doing that day?”

“I think you definitely should.” He looked at both of them, now, with his intense expression. “I’m many years from my psych rotation, but I’m qualified to help with the depression – to a point. If things look like they’re more than Peter and I can work through, then I’m going to insist on bringing in a specialist.”

“A _specialist_?” Peter echoed. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

And the idea of talking to a stranger frightened him, for some reason.

“We’ll use Stephen, first, honey,” Tony assured him, squeezing his hand. “I appreciate you helping out like this,” he told the doctor. “What can I do?”

“You can come visit whenever you have time – and not in a set schedule, if you can avoid it. Just call me, first, to make sure something isn’t happening with the sanctum that would make me prefer you’re not in it, at that moment.”

“I can do that.”

“Bring Benjamin,” Strange added.

“I thought we were keeping them apart…?”

“Losing you and the baby is what started the downward spiral,” Stephen pointed out. “Having both of you under the same roof – even if Benjamin isn’t in the same room – will undoubtably be of comfort to Peter.”

Both men looked at Peter and he nodded.

“Yes.”

He loved the idea that Ben was so close to him. True, he couldn’t _see_ him, but just knowing he was close, and knowing that as soon as it was _safe_ he was _going_ to be able to see him, made it easier to bear.

Tony nodded, too.

“I’m good with that.”

“Then tell him goodbye, for now,” Strange ordered.

“What? Already?”

“I want him to get some rest. He’s exhausted, and sleep is what he needs most, right this moment.”

“And something to eat,” Stark added.

“And something to eat. Which I will make, personally, once you and your son have gone for the evening.”

The doctor took his few medical instruments and left the room, and Peter looked at Tony.

“You’ll come back?”

“As soon as I can,” Tony promised. He took Peter’s hand and kissed it, tenderly, and then kissed his cheek. “We’ll get you better, and then I’ll bring you home to me and Benji. Yeah?”

Peter nodded, coughing despite the attempt to force it down to avoid spoiling the moment.

“Yeah.”

Tony pulled the blankets back, and gestured for Peter to lay back down where he’d been when the billionaire had woken him. When Peter had complied, he tucked the blankets around him, and leaned over him, again, and this time his kiss was on the lips, tender and loving.

“You’re lucky,” he told him when he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Because I have you?”

“That, too. But none of us…” and by that he meant the Avengers. “Have ever had a chance to look around Stephen’s sanctum. Make sure you take notes once you’re well enough to get out of bed for any length of time.”

Peter smiled.

“I’ll try.”

“Eat everything he puts in front of you,” Tony added, pressing another kiss against Peter’s cheek. “You’re too thin.”

“Alright.”

Stark got up and left the room, closing the door behind him.

><><><><><>

He was met on the landing by Strange’s flying cloak, which was hovering in mid-air and seemed to be waiting for him.

“What?” Tony knew he wasn’t going to get a verbal response, but he wasn’t sure what it wanted. Or if it wanted anything. “Are you guarding Peter’s door? Or taking me to Stephen?”

There _was_ an answer. Completely non-verbal. The thing turned and floated away, heading for the top of the stairs, but stopping and turning back toward him. Tony nodded, and followed, going down the stairs and across the main room, through an archway and into a kitchen. Like Peter’s bedroom, Tony was somewhat disappointed to find that the kitchen looked completely normal, too. No roaring fire in the hearth, or dogs on a conveyor belt running a slowly turning spit over that fire with roasting dragon, or something. There were modern appliances and an island similar to the one in his own place – and in Peter’s. Benji’s carrier was on the island, and Strange was holding the baby, taking advantage of the opportunity to examine him, and introduce himself to the baby after being gone for so long.

He was also making funny faces at him, which he stopped, immediately, when he realized Tony had walked into the room. The cloak soared over to hover near at hand, a piece of fabric reaching out to touch Benji, and Tony frowned.

“Stephen…”

“It isn’t going to hurt him,” the sorcerer assured him. “I doubt it has ever seen such a young child.” He turned his attention to Tony. “What are your intentions with Peter?”

The sudden change of topic didn’t throw Tony as much as Strange might have expected. Stark was fairly erratic, himself, after all. He was used to changing the subject at will.

“Get him healthy enough to take home.”

“His home? Or yours?”

“Mine. We’ve talked. I love him, and he said he loved me. I don’t see why I can’t take him home. Unless you think it’s a bad idea…”

“I think it’s an excellent goal,” Strange said. “Providing you aren’t going to drop out of his life, after.”

Which explained why he was asking about intentions.

“I’m not planning on it. Are you really going to allow him to convalesce here?”

“I helped cause the problem,” the doctor pointed out. “It’s the least I can do.”

“And it’s safe, here?” he asked, looking at the cloak, which was now running that corner of fabric along Benji’s ear, making the baby giggle, and reach for it, grasping it in his little fist.

“He’ll be fine. Safer here than anywhere on the planet.” He smiled, slightly. “I might even show him around, a bit. Providing he promises not to tell you what he discovers.”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused.

“Rescue my son from your flying carpet and get us back home, will you? I have arrangements to make.”

No sense taking an UBER, after all.


	33. 33

“So… why isn’t this guy staying with Stark? He’s _his_ friend, right?”

“More than friends,” Strange confirmed, looking up from the chicken that he was cutting up to bake. “And he _would_ stay with Tony, except that Tony has his son, and we don’t want to risk Benjamin catching anything that Peter might have.”

Wong frowned.

“Should _I_ be worried about catching anything?”

The sorcerer smirked.

“You’ll be fine. The baby is just more vulnerable and there’s no sense in risking it. Besides, Peter needs to be monitored awhile.”

“ _Because_ …?”

“Because he’s almost certainly suffering from depression, and I don’t want him staying at his place by himself. Since he can’t stay at Tony’s, and he can’t be at his – and I’m certainly not going to allow him back to the park – then that leaves him staying with us.”

Wong looked skeptical, but not scandalized at the idea.

“A non-magic user in the sanctum…?”

“He’s a good guy. I’m not too concerned. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him, you won’t even know that he’s here.”

“Uh huh.” He shrugged. “What does he do? Work with Stark? Is he an Avenger?”

“He’s a college student. He took last year off to work with Tony on a personal project, but I assume once he gets his head on straight he’ll be going back and finishing.”

“Oh.”

Stephen smiled.

“Did I mention he’s a pretty good cook?”

“No. You probably should have led with that.”

OOOOOOOOOO

Peter was asleep when Strange brought dinner, but he woke up without too much trouble and sat up when he was told to do so. Strange had brought a tray with a plate of chicken, potatoes, and broccoli, a glass of milk and a bread roll.

“No coffee,” told the boy as Peter started eating, hungrily. “I don’t want the caffeine keeping you awake, tonight.”

“Yeah. I mean, no. It’s fine.” Peter was hungry enough to eat everything on the plate, and more, but he tried not to rush, remembering that he’d read somewhere that someone who hadn’t been eating regularly shouldn’t eat too much, too soon, or they’d end up sick. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There was a comfortable chair beside the bed, and Stephen settled into it to watch Peter eat. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“That’s _physically_.” He wasn’t surprised by that. “How about emotionally? Mentally?”

“Wrung out,” Peter admitted. “But better, I think.” He swallowed the mouthful of food that he’d been chewing, washing it down with a drink of the milk. “I don’t know what I’ve been _thinking_ … It just seemed like nothing really mattered, so I didn’t do anything.”

“That would be the depression.”

“It’s really a thing, huh?”

Peter had thought that since it was a problem with women who had given birth, that he’d somehow lose the concern once he lost the woman parts. Or maybe he thought that he was just stronger than that, and wouldn’t succumb to it. He really hadn’t been thinking much, lately, he realized.

“It is a thing,” the doctor assured him. His eyes were filled with compassion, and Peter felt a little less foolish than he had a moment, before. “And it can be debilitating, obviously.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “Do I see a shrink?”

“No. And I’m not going to medicate you, either. Not beyond what I’m giving you for the cough.”

He’d consider a sedative to help Peter sleep, but the boy hadn’t seemed to be having any trouble with that. Of course, he was exhausted, so it made sense.

“What then?”

“I’m going to dig into some research books and remember what I learned in my psych rotation and Tony will be visiting you, regularly, and reminding you that you aren’t alone. Between the two of us – and a huge doze of Benjamin, once you’re healthier, hopefully we’ll get you feeling a little more like your old self.”

Peter nodded, feeling his eyes sting with tears at the thought that Tony and Ben were going to be back to see him. He’d missed them so much. Had felt so empty inside. So alone, like he’d told Tony. He cleared his throat, and coughed, wiping his eyes, impatiently.

“Thank you.”

Strange nodded, not concerned by the show of emotion. He was sure there would be more in the near future.

“You’re welcome. Now, you aren’t a prisoner here, of course, but the sanctum can – _potentially_ – be a dangerous place for the uninitiated. So I would prefer that you not wander around. At least until I have a chance to show you where you can go and where you should avoid.”

“Oh.” Peter nodded. “Right. Of course.” Tony’s comment about taking notes about the place (which Peter was certain had been a joke) aside, he wouldn’t dream of snooping through someplace that wasn't his to explore. “There’s a _bathroom_ , though, right?”

He vaguely remembered taking a shower when Stephen had brought him home with him.

The sorcerer smiled, pleased at the attempt that Peter was making.

“There _is_. Two doors down from this room, to the right. Avail yourself of it, anytime. My room is on this same level – as is Wong’s, in case-“

“Who?”

“Wong.” Strange debated how much to tell Peter, just then. He and the boy had had a few conversations during Peter’s stay at Tony’s estate, and obviously Peter knew that he was a master of the mystical arts. He hadn’t mentioned the sanctum, much, however, or any of the relics in it – or Wong. “He’s something of a roommate, but definitely a colleague.”

“Is he a wizard, too?”

“He can do magic,” Stephen confirmed. “Wizard isn’t really what we like to call ourselves…”

“It’s what _Tony_ calls you.”

The older man smirked, amused.

“Because I call him _Copper_ man.”

“Oh.” That made Peter smile, because he could imagine Tony rolling his eyes at being called that. “Good one.”

“I thought so, at the time. Wong and I are the only _humans_ , here,” he said. “But we aren’t the only beings who call this place home – the rest are just not human. Or even, technically, alive. You will almost certainly see somethings that may be unnerving. Try not to panic. Nothing will hurt you on _this_ level, or in the rest of the sanctum, as long as you don’t touch anything unless I or Wong tell you that you can.”

“Don’t touch the magical items,” Peter said, nodding. “Got it.”

“Good.” Strange allowed a smile, wanting to reassure. “Finish eating, alright? And then take some cough syrup and get some more rest. Tomorrow is soon enough for me to introduce you to Wong, and if you’re feeling up to it, I’ll show you around a little.”

Peter nodded, but he hesitated, uncertainly.

“I… thank you, Stephen. For finding me and bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome. And you are _welcome_ , here, as well.” He stood up. “Need anything?”

“No. I think I’m set.”

“Make a list of things that you do want from your place,” the sorcerer told him. “I’ll have Tony bring them by when he comes, tomorrow.”

“He’s coming, tomorrow?”

“He’s going to be here as often as possible. I’m fairly certain his continued presence is going to make a big difference in how quickly – and completely – we get you feeling better.”

“And Ben?”

“Yes. Of course. But not until you’re a little healthier. So eat and go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The doctor left and Peter looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything magical that he could tell, but it looked pretty ordinary, really. He shrugged, and turned his attention to his meal, more than willing to do what he’d been told.

The sooner he was able to have Ben in his arms, the better.


	34. 34

“I told you not to panic…”

Peter nodded, still pale, and still staring at the piece of fabric that was hovering in mid-air beside the sorcerer.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you alright?”

“What? I – yeah, I’m-“

“What’s going on?”

They both (all three counting the cloak) turned and saw Wong in the doorway of a room only a few feet away from them. The other sorcerer was wearing sweats and an I heart NY shirt, and was obviously just woken up.

“Nothing serious,” Stephen assured him. “Peter just had a bit of a fright.”

A bit of a fright was a bit of an understatement, really, but he was trying to keep things as calm for the boy as possible. Especially in light of what had just happened. Not that he’d seen it, but when he’d hurried from his room in response to a frightened yelp, he’d been a bit confused and shocked to find Peter wrapped in the Cloak of Levitation and being deposited onto the landing. The boy's eyes had been wide, and his knees had been a bit wobbly when the relic had unwrapped itself from around him.

“I was walking from the bathroom and got startled,” Peter said, apologetically. “And kind of fell over the railing, there.”

Wong frowned.

“The landing railing?”

“Yeah.” Peter gave the man a shaky smile. “But the… um… this blanket? Caught me.”

“It’s a cloak,” Strange told him, and his smile was a little amused. “An ancient artifact from a world that has been gone three times as long as the Earth has been turning around our sun. With quick reflexes, luckily.”

From what he gathered, Peter had been startled by the cloak, which had almost certainly come to check out who was moving around in the middle of the night – or maybe it was just curious about their guest. Whatever it had been, Peter had taken a wrong step backward, had overbalanced and had toppled over the railing. Not an auspicious beginning to the boy’s stay in the sanctum, Tony might say. Stephen, however, was surprised that the cloak had caught Peter, and that was a good indicator that the magical relic wasn’t against the idea of him being in the sanctum.

Which was a good thing, really.

“How does it fly?” Peter asked, curiously, wonder overcoming fear and reaction.

“It’s _magic_ ,” Wong replied, mysteriously.

Strange rolled his eyes, but he smirked and shrugged.

“He’s right; it is.” The sorcerer stepped to the side, just a little, and turned to Wong. “This is our guest Peter,” he said. “Peter Parker. I was going to introduce the two of you in the morning – over breakfast, most likely – but now will have to suffice. Peter, this is Wong.”

The boy stepped up, offering a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, as well. Are you injured?”

“No. I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Then I’m going back to bed.” He needed his beauty sleep, after all. “I’ll see you in the morning and we can talk more, then.”

“Yeah.”

He turned and went back into his bedroom, closing the door, quietly, behind him, and Stephen raised an eyebrow at Peter.

“You’re sure you aren’t injured?”

“No. I’m okay.” A corner of the younger man’s mouth came up in a wry smile. “It’s a good thing I was on my way _back_ from the bathroom, though,” he added. “Or your cloak friend would probably have needed to be sent out for dry cleaning.”

Stephen snorted, although the cloak didn’t seem to be as amused as the sorcerer did. It didn’t leave, though, and Peter had the weirdest feeling that it was studying him – like he was studying it, maybe?

“You should go back to bed,” the magician suggested. “I think Tony is going to be by pretty early, tomorrow, and I want you to be well rested.”

“Okay.” The boy looked at the cloak, uncertainly. “Thanks for catching me.”

A corner of the fabric came up and patted his shoulder, and then it swept away, still floating as effortlessly as it had when it had snuck up behind Peter and had frightened him.

“I don’t know that we need to tell Tony about this…”

Peter smiled, and shook his head.

“I don’t think he’d believe me.”

><><><><><><>

To Peter’s great joy, Tony did come by the sanctum the next morning, bright and early. Early enough, actually, that the young man was still in bed. The billionaire settled himself, carefully, on the edge of the bed, looking down at the sleeping boy for a moment before he reached out a hand and rested his palm on Peter’s cheek.

_“Everyone who is in love with Tony Stark open your eyes…”_

Confused, Peter opened his eyes, woken by the touch – and the voice of the person he most wanted to see, and had actually been _dreaming_ about.

“Hmm?”

Stark smiled, leaning over and pressing a kiss against Peter’s temple.

“I’m so glad you opened your eyes.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, understanding that Peter was too asleep, still, to have any idea what he’d said.

“Because they’re beautiful, just like you, and I can’t get enough of them.”

Peter smiled, too, then, blushing and pleased with the compliment. He rolled over onto his back, stretching a little, and feeling better than he could remember feeling in a long time. Not great, yet; he knew he wasn’t as healthy as he should be, and there was still an ache somewhere deep inside him, but he was able to smile, and it had been a long time since he’d done that. Or even had a reason to do it.

“You look nice.”

The billionaire was dressed for the office, and his suit was perfect. He’d also dressed knowing that he was going to see Peter, so his hair was perfect, as was his neatly trimmed facial hair. And he was wearing the aftershave that Peter had gifted him with for Christmas.

“Thank you, honey. How did you sleep?”

“Good.”

“How do you feel?”

“Tired. But good.” He caught Tony’s hand. “Is Ben here?”

“He’s downstairs with Stephen and Wong. They said they were going to teach him to say bad words and then blame it on me.”

“Is he speaking, already?” Peter asked, his hand tightening on Tony’s.

“Not, yet. He’s pretty vocal, though. You’ll see when you see him.”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Are you… who watches him when you’re working?”

“I take him to the tower with me. There’s an onsite daycare, and I hired a nanny to stay with him in case something comes up and he needs anything.”

“Someone good?”

Tony nodded, too. He leaned over and kissed Peter’s forehead, and then his too-thin cheeks before he pressed his lips, lightly, against Peter’s for a moment.

“She’s an ex special forces agent that Romanoff knows. Minored in child development and majored in ass kicking. She’s great with him, and he’s comfortable with her. But he’s looking forward to seeing you.”

The younger man smiled, and Tony wondered how anyone could look so happy and still somewhat sad all at the same time.

“He is?” Peter asked. “How do you know that?”

“He told me.”

“I thought you said he isn’t speaking, yet…”

The billionaire shrugged.

“He’s gifted. What can I say?” Tony ran his thumb along Peter’s palm since the boy was holding his hand. “I can’t stay long,” he said, gently. “But I’m going to come back, tonight and spend some time with you, then.”

“A lot of time?”

“Yes. As long as you get some rest so Stephen doesn’t send me packing before I even get comfortable. I’ll bring dinner.”

“Okay.”

“Any requests?”

“No.” He just wanted _Tony_. He didn’t say it, though, so he didn’t sound as pathetic aloud as that sounded in his mind. “I’m glad you came.”

That made Tony smile, and his eyes watered as he pulled Peter into his arms, hugging him close and ignoring the fact that he was getting wrinkled.

“I’m glad I came, too, honey.”

They were quiet for a long moment, simply holding onto each other and savoring the sensation after so long apart. Tony might have decided to just skip going to the tower, entirely, he was that comfortable, but just as he was thinking that, Peter’s stomach growled, loudly, and they both snorted, amused. Tony pulled away, and Peter smiled.

“Sorry.”

“I’m not.” He kissed him, soundly. “I’m going to go so you can get ready for your day and get some breakfast. Call me if you need anything.”

Peter nodded, but then he frowned, looking a little uncertain. It wasn’t a look that Stark liked seeing on him.

“I’m not sure where my phone is,” he admitted.

“Have Stephen call me, then,” Tony said. “I’ll come running.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Peter Parker.”

Another smile, replacing that uncertainty.

“I love you, too, Tony.”


	35. 35

“Where’s Peter?”

“In his room. Sleeping, last I checked on him.”

Tony hesitated, watching as Wong unbuckled Benji from his carrier and picked the baby up, smiling at him and cuddling him before he turned his attention back to Strange.

“Is that normal?” he asked, concerned. “Him sleeping so much? Or is it an indicator of the depression?”

“He’s exhausted, Tony. One good night’s sleep isn’t going to fix that. Not to mention, he’s sick, and that’s taking its toll on him, as well. If he’s still sleeping the day away in another few days, then I’ll be concerned.”

“He got out of bed and had lunch with us,” Wong added, more than willing to put his two cents worth into the conversation.

“True.” The three men were interrupted by the arrival of the Cloak of Levitation, which came swooping into the room and immediately went to hover over Wong’s shoulder, a corner of fabric reaching for Benjamin – who giggled and grabbed at it. “Do you mind watching him?” Stephen asked Wong. “I want to talk to Tony for a minute.”

“Of course.”

Strange led the way out of the kitchen, where Tony had been taken upon his arrival at the sanctum, juggling a pizza and the baby – as well as Benji’s diaper bag. He was pretty good at handling a lot of things at once, now, but had definitely appreciated it when Wong had taken the carrier and Strange had assisted with the pizza.

“What’s up?” Tony asked, concerned enough that something was wrong that he didn’t even look around as Stephen took him into a small room that looked something like a library – or maybe a den.

“I want to apply some constraints for your visit with Peter tonight – and most likely, subsequent visits.”

Tony frowned, automatically, because he hated the idea of _anyone_ putting constraints or limitations on him. It was a flash of annoyance that only lasted long enough for him to realize that he was being ridiculous, especially since it was _Stephen_ , who had already proven that Peter’s well-being was of the utmost concern to him, so he wasn’t doing it to be a prick, or something.

“Right. What are we looking at?”

“I want him to stay in bed, tonight. So pizza was a good choice, because while it can be _messy_ , it isn’t sloppy. What did you have planned?”

“I mentioned watching a movie with him when I spoke to him, this morning. Would that be alright, or do you think it would be too long?”

Not to mention, while he was spending time with Peter, the wizard was going to be playing baby-sitter.

“I think it’s a good idea. Low energy and it’ll keep him still and quiet. We had a long talk, today, and he’s fairly worn out. The less excitement, right now, the better.”

“Right.”

“Speaking of excitement,” Stephen added. “Since you’re going to be in his bedroom – and presumably his _bed_ – I’m going to add in that I do _not_ want anything unduly physical going on between the two of you, just now.”

“What?”

Strange raised an eyebrow.

“No sex. He’s not ready for anything physical like that. Hold him, because he needs that, but nothing too strenuous. I don’t want you fornicating in my guestroom.”

“Oh.” Tony hadn’t actually considered having sex with Peter that evening. He seemed so fragile, just then, that he was more worried about hurting him, than anything else. He smiled, though, at the thought of instigating something just to be able to say that he’d had a good fuck in the sanctum, but remembered that Stephen was a pretty powerful guy, really, and he didn’t want to find himself zapped, or something. Or maybe the guy could remove his penis as easily as he’d given Peter a vagina? Probably best to not do something so dumb. “I see your point. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Hold him,” Strange repeated. “He needs the contact with you.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He shrugged. “I’m going to impose a three hour limit for tonight’s visit. An hour to eat and socialize, and two hours for the movie. That won’t tire him out.”

“Great.”

><><><><><><><

Peter wasn’t asleep when Tony came into his room. He was sitting up in the bed, looking adorably sleepy and rumpled. The boy looked over when he walked in, and Stark smiled as he set the pizza box onto Peter’s lap, and then dropped a large bag onto the foot of the bed.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi.” Peter’s smile was happy, but his eyes were lit up with relief. He’d been afraid that something might come up and Tony wouldn’t be able to come, after all. “How was your day?”

“Busy. Meeting after meeting. But I thought about how good it would be to see you, tonight, and that made it all bearable.”

Peter blushed at that, looking so pleased that Tony felt a little surge of happiness. He settled on the edge of the bed, and watched as the boy opened the pizza box. And found a few slices missing – although there was still plenty for the two of them.

“Who did that?”

Stark rolled his eyes, kicking off his shoes as he did.

“Stephen and Wong decided it was a fair charge for baby-sitting fees.”

“They’re watching Ben?”

Tony nodded.

“They _are_ – and so is the flying rug. If we’re not careful, they’re going to fall for him, and then it’ll be wizards against Avengers to get our son back from them, someday.”

Peter froze, staring at him. Not because of the implied threat of the sorcerers stealing Ben, of course. He wasn’t concerned about that. What had caught his attention was the way Tony had phrased it. _Our_ son back. Not his. As far as Peter could remember, it was the first time that he’d ever heard the billionaire call Ben that. Peter never had, either, though, so he hadn’t thought anything of it. He didn’t know if he should be happy, or sad, but his eyes stung with unshed tears, and he wiped his sleeve across them, impatiently, trying to keep the visit a happy one and refusing to turn weepy and ruin it.

“Have the Avengers met him, yet?” he asked, instead.

Did he read somewhere that they had? He couldn’t remember.

“Of course. They love him.” He smirked. “Benji spit up on Steve. All down his back, and some on his front. It was a mess.”

That made Peter smile, as Tony had hoped it would.

“What did he do?”

“What could he do? He’s a _baby_. It’s not like he did it on purpose, right? Although I’d have paid him a million dollars if he’d have shit his diaper, too, with some of that super runny stuff that seems to get all over everything. That would have been perfect.”

“You’re terrible…”

Tony smiled, and shrugged.

“I know.” He reached for a slice of pizza, setting a couple of napkins in Peter’s lap, first. “I brought you some of the things you asked for from your place, and a couple of other things that I know you need.”

“Like what?” Peter asked, curiously.

The older man reached into his pocket and pulled out a new cell phone, handing it over and managing to do so without getting any greasy fingerprints on it.

“A new phone. I couldn’t find yours at your place, and when I called it, there wasn’t any answer, so who knows where it is.” He’d found a lot of spoiled food in the fridge that he’d cleared out, before he’d gone into Peter’s dresser for clothes and toiletries. “This one is keyed directly into FRIDAY’s network, so you can’t lose it, and you’ll have direct access to me – in case you need anything.”

“Wow…” Peter looked at the phone, and tucked it under his leg, feeling wanted and loved like he hadn’t in a very long time. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” Tony replied. He leaned over and stole a very tender and chaste kiss. “Eat, okay? Stephen says we have three hours, and I want to spend some of it cuddling while we watch a movie.”

The boy nodded, picking up the slice of pizza, but looking around.

“There isn’t a TV in here…” he pointed out. “How are we going to watch a movie? On my new phone?”

Stark smiled.

“I think we can do better than that.”

“How, then?” Peter asked, taking a bite of his pizza.

“You’ll see.”

><><><><><><>

“Are you comfortable?”

Peter made an approving noise as Tony brought his arms around him from behind, his belly and chest pressing up against the younger man’s back and his own back resting against a few pillows that had him propped against the headboard of the bed. He had his tablet in his hand, but there was a clever stand for it, that was designed to be propped on Peter’s lower belly once they were settled.

“Yes. Are you?”

The screen was plenty big enough for them to see it, but small enough that it justified them being so close – not that Tony really needed that justification. He really just wanted to hold Peter.

“I’m perfect,” Stark assured him.

He set the tablet in the holder, and turned it on.

“What are we going to watch?”

“You decide.”

“Anything?”

“Something _happy_ ,” Tony amended. “I want to leave here cheerful.”

Peter named a movie, and it started without an input from either of them, telling Peter that the tablet was linked in to FRIDAY, as well. He smiled, and caught Tony’s hands with his own, pressing them against his stomach, right above the stand that was holding the tablet and holding them, lightly. Then he simply melted into the bigger man’s embrace and savored the sensation of being – literally – wrapped in his arms.

“Is this okay?” Peter asked, belatedly.

“It’s perfect,” Tony assured him.

He pressed his lips against Peter’s neck and settled in to watch the movie, but was very much aware of the young man that he was holding – and smiled when Peter brought Tony’s hand up and kissed it, absently.

It wasn’t as much as he wanted to do, but it was enough for the moment.


	36. 36

“You look happy…”

Tony smiled, looking up at Pepper, who had walked into his office to discuss some papers she’d just faxed off to be signed.

“Do I?”

She smiled, too, because it was infectious, sometimes, when he was in a good mood. He’d been in a good mood, often, recently, and she was sure it had something to do with his new son. A shock to everyone who knew him, but so adorable. And good for Tony, because he was clearly settling down.

“You _do_. Any particular reason?”

“Just thinking about my weekend,” he told her, honestly.

“Are you and Ben doing anything special?”

She’d know if he had a trip planned, but she didn’t think that he’d be ready to take his 6-month-old son anywhere too far away, just yet. Pepper Potts didn’t know a ton about babies, really, but she knew they required a lot of work and planning whenever they went anywhere.

“We’re working on a special project.”

“Oh? A new suit?”

Tony smiled, again.

“Not this time.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. The last project he’d been working on had resulted in the billionaire walking into her office one day and introducing her to his new son.

“Not another _baby_?”

That actually produced a chuckle. He really _was_ in a good mood, she decided.

“No. One is enough for me.” He shrugged. “It’s supposed to be nice this weekend. Benji and I are going to visit friends.”

She assumed that he meant the Avengers, and let it drop. Tony, of course, had other plans in mind.

><><><><><><>

“You’re sure about this?”

Strange nodded, understanding Peter’s uncertainty, and addressing it seriously, instead of making a smart-assed comment about never being wrong.

“I’m sure,” he replied. They were at the kitchen island, just then, but Tony had called and informed them that he and Benjamin were on their way to the sanctum. “Your cough is well contained, and you’re healthy enough that Benjamin isn’t going to catch anything from you, now. _Physically_ , you’re ready. How do you feel, mentally and emotionally?”

They had had several long talks that week, and while Stephen didn’t exactly call them therapy sessions, it was pretty much what they were. Peter would come out of the discussions exhausted and sometimes weepy and feeling a bit fragile, but the timing was usually pretty spot on. He’d have a chance to get a nap, maybe something to eat, and by then Tony would be appearing on the sanctum doorstep, ready to hold the younger man and reassure him with words and with touch.

It was working, Strange thought. Well enough that he had determined that when Tony arrived, that afternoon, they would let Peter hold Benjamin. Presuming the boy was feeling up to it.

“A little nervous,” Peter admitted, honestly. “I guess I’m afraid I’ll pick him up and he’ll start screaming and trying to get away…” he shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but unable to succeed in the attempt. It was so important to him. “I mean… what if he doesn’t remember me? He was pretty little…”

This wasn’t a surprise. Stephen nodded.

“He’s _still_ pretty little,” he reminded Peter. “If he cries, just remember that crying is what babies do best.”

“I’ll try.”

“You’ll be fine.” He smiled. “Why don’t you go to the brown room?” he suggested. “I’ll have Tony bring Benjamin in there, so it’s a little quieter.”

“Alright.”

Peter had been out of bed for a few days, now, and Strange and Wong had given him a tour of the sanctum. Mainly the lower floor – and mostly to point out what rooms and areas he should absolutely stay away from – in order to avoid a “horrific death, or worse.” But he’d seen some pretty amazing things, as well, and that was saying something considering the Cloak of Levitation was constantly floating in and out of the different rooms, silently looking in on things and even checking on Peter, sometimes – which was odd, of course, but kind of touching, too.

He knew the safe places well, and the brown room was cozy, with a couch, a couple of end tables and a huge fireplace that was always lit, but never actually had any wood burning in it.

Peter went into the brown room, but instead of settling on the sofa, he paced, unable to sit still. Would Ben remember him? Would he cry? Would Tony have to rescue their son from him, because he didn’t want to be held by a stranger? What would he look like? He’d studied every picture and video that Tony had shown him of the baby, and had many of them downloaded onto his new phone, but an image wasn’t the real thing, was it? What did he smell like? Feel like? Was he chubby? He didn’t look chubby in the videos, but – again – that was just the videos. The real thing was going to be so much different.

He’d worked himself into a bit of a panic by the time a low bell rang through the sanctum. It was a doorbell, of sorts, but designed to not be startling – in deference to all of the studying that the two sorcerers did in their libraries and elsewhere. Peter didn’t leave the room, but he did stop pacing, and he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He didn’t want Ben to think he was crazy, after all.

><><><><><

“Well?”

Stephen smiled; true Tony and Peter had both been looking forward to this day, but he had been, too, and he wished that he could record it so he could see their reactions – and Benjamin’s.

“He’s waiting for you in the brown room.”

“How is he doing?”

“He’s nervous,” Strange replied. “He’s afraid Benjamin has forgotten him and will scream.”

Tony nodded, but even though the subject was serious, he couldn’t help that he was still smiling.

“I’m nervous, too. For _Peter’s_ sake, I mean. Benji’s not going to freak out on him. I just want him to be happy, again.”

“This is definitely a big step.” Stephen shrugged. “If it goes well, why don’t you come take him home with you, tomorrow?”

Stark’s eyes widened in surprise, and his hand clenched around the handle of the baby carrier.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“He’s ready?”

“I think he is. We’ve had several conversations about his mental health and stability, and he’s doing very well,” the sorcerer said. “He’s had his chance to recover his equilibrium and heal. This place is called a _sanctum_ , but if he stays too long, he might decide that he’s safe here and not be willing to leave and face the world, again.”

“Wow…”

“That doesn’t mean take him home and ravage him in bed all weekend,” Stephen added. “He’s better, but you still need to be gentle with him.”

“Can I take him to bed with me?”

“With the aforementioned stipulation? I think it’d be good for him – and probably for _you_ , for that matter.”

“Probably,” Tony agreed. He’d already felt really good and upbeat about the day, but it certainly took a positive turn, hadn’t it? “Time limit for this evening?”

“A few hours. Don’t go overboard, but as long as your son is willing, spend as much time with them together as they can handle.”

“Thank you.”

><><><><><><>

Peter couldn’t help but flinch when he heard the door handle turning, but he’d controlled his reaction by the time the door opened, and he smiled, nervously, when Tony walked in. His heart soared, though, when he saw that he really was carrying the baby carrier. The exact same one that he and the billionaire had ordered online when they’d started shopping for all the accessories that they’d need for the baby.

“Hey, honey,” Tony said, smiling, gently. He looked so afraid, despite how much he was clearly trying to hide it. “I’ve brought someone to see you.”

Peter’s smile was shaky, and he realized his _hands_ were, too. He moved over to the sofa and seated himself on one side, leaving plenty of room for the baby carrier – and Tony – to join him.

“Is he okay?” he asked, craning to see the baby in the carrier, and smiling when Tony took the blanket off so he could. “Oh…”

His eyes filled with tears that he couldn’t control, but Tony wasn’t concerned. They weren’t sad tears – and he’d seen plenty of them, so he knew the difference, by now. The billionaire handed Peter an ever-present tissue, and then gave the younger man a chance to get his emotions back together while he unbuckled their son from the carrier, and lifted him out of the seat.

“He’s fine, Peter…” he assured him, Benji in one arm, and moving the carrier to the floor with his free hand. “And so are you.”

“Yeah.” Peter sniffed, softly, and wiped his eyes, and then his nose before he put the tissue in the pocket of his jeans. “Can… Can I hold him?”

“I hope so,” Tony said, cheerfully. “It’s all he’s been talking to me about all day. Driving me crazy, really.”

He handed Benji over to Peter, and the boy took him with a wondrous smile and something Tony couldn’t read in his expressive eyes. He tucked the baby easily up against himself; apparently it wasn’t a talent that could be forgotten in a mere 3 months, and both men looked down at the baby to see how he was going to handle the exchange.

Benjamin looked up at Peter, and then over at Tony, his big, brown eyes cheerful, and his arms waving, restlessly. Then he looked back at Peter, and those eyes – big as they were, already – seemed to widen, just a little. The baby made a happy squeal, and wriggled, just a little more animated than he’d been, and he never took his eyes off Peter.

The young man sniffed, again, but he smiled down at Ben, his free hand taking the baby’s and he had to swallow the huge lump in his throat when Ben grabbed his finger, tightly, smiling up at him.

“Hi, baby…” Peter whispered, hoarsely. “I’ve missed you.”

Tony sniffed, too, wiping his eyes with his shoulder before he leaned over and kissed Peter’s ear, and then rested his chin on the boy’s shoulder, watching their son reconnect with his mommy… daddy? Whatever it was Peter was. Tony didn’t care, and from the looks of it, Peter and Benji didn’t care, either.

“I _told_ you he missed you,” the billionaire whispered in Peter’s ear. “Now do you believe me?”

Peter smiled, and nodded, but never looked up from the baby, and those eyes that were so similar to Tony’s.

“Yeah.”


	37. 37

“Do you have everything?”

Peter looked around the guestroom that he’d called home for almost two weeks, and then at Strange.

“If I forget something, does that mean I can come back?”

The sorcerer smiled at that.

“You’re welcomed here, anytime, Peter.”

He meant it, too, and that sincerity was plain to see. Tony was on his way over to pick up Peter and take him home, and while the boy was eager to go, he was also uncertain how to tell Stephen just how much he appreciated all that he’d done for him. A thank you card just didn’t seem like it would be enough, after all. Peter was feeling so much more sure of himself, now, than he had been, and he felt healthier, physically and emotionally, and that was all on Strange, as far as he was concerned.

“Thank you.” He said, hesitating. It wasn’t enough. The sorcerers didn’t need money, though, and they didn’t need a thank you card. If they found themselves requiring something, it just popped into their hands, now didn’t it? Peter had plenty of money, but he knew there was nothing he could give Stephen in return for the care he’d been given. “For _rescuing_ me, I mean, and taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.” Stephen meant it, too. Of course, it might not have been necessary to do any of it if he’d done a better job monitoring what was going on with the boy, both before he’d left Tony’s estate and after, but he was a busy guy, and he knew that blaming himself wouldn’t help anything. He’d done what he could to make amends, even if he didn’t call it that, and even if Peter didn’t see it that way. “If you need anything – or even just want to talk – call me.”

“I will.”

The younger man stepped forward and hugged him, holding him close for a long moment. While normally Strange would have rolled his eyes and looked around to make sure no one was watching – and affect a disdaining expression to make certain the rest of the world knew he was above such sentimentalities, in this case he simply wrapped his arms around Peter and hugged him back.

“We’ll have to make a weekly coffee time, or something,” he suggested when they parted. “Maybe Tony and you can bring Benjamin over so Wong and the Cloak can have a chance to play with him, and we can reconnect and make sure the world is treating you right.”

“I’d like that.”

“Make sure you tell Tony.”

_He_ would, too, but he knew that Tony would do anything for Peter. And not just because he felt guilty for not keeping track of Peter after he’d left his estate. Peter was definitely good for Tony, Strange had decided.

“I will.”

Peter picked up his bag that held his clothes, and the backpack that held everything else, and then headed for the door.

><><><><><><>

Tony brought him to his apartment, rather than to the estate.

He and Peter had discussed that the evening before, while Peter had been holding Benji. If Peter wanted them to live full time at the estate, then that’s what they’d do. If he was more comfortable there, or if he just liked having so many amenities available to him, then Tony would take him there, and establish them as a family there. The apartment was more convenient, because it was closer to the tower, closer to Benji’s nanny, and closer to the doctor if anything should come up. But Tony would do whatever Peter needed. If the estate held bad – or sad – memories for Peter, then the apartment was better. If the estate was a place Peter was more comfortable, then he and Benji could adjust their schedule and would do just fine at the estate.

Peter had shaken his head and told Tony that he wanted to be with him and with Ben, and the location didn’t matter to him as much as the company did. He meant it, too.

So the apartment it was, and maybe the estate on the weekends.

“Here we are,” Stark said, cheerfully, holding the door for Peter, who was carrying Benji’s carrier in one hand and his backpack in the other. Tony was carrying the bag. “Home sweet home.”

How he loved the idea of that – and loved saying it!

Peter clearly felt the same way. He looked around, carrying the baby’s carrier to the coffee table, and setting it down. He smiled, because there were a dozen roses in an intricate arrangement sitting on that same table, and a small teddy bear that proclaimed I love you on its belly.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Just like you.”

His smile widened at the sincere compliment, and he was a little surprised that he didn’t tear up, again. He was getting better, though, because he didn’t cry at the drop of a hat, now. At least, he didn’t cry over ordinary things, anymore. He was still fairly weepy anytime he looked at Ben and realized that he was going to be able to see him anytime that he wanted. And when he thought of having that same dynamic with Tony, who was so handsome that it made Peter ache for him.

“Thank you.”

Tony was pleased, and he pulled Peter into his arms, holding him close – because he _could_ , and not because the younger man needed the comforting or the support. He would still need that, of course – Strange had made sure to remind him of that back at the Sanctum while Peter was saying goodbye to Wong and trying to get his backpack from the cloak, which had decided to play a weird game of keep-away with the boy, looking as cheerful as a floating carpet could. But he also just wanted to hold him because Peter was his, now. Had committed ( _verbally_ , anyway) to loving Tony, and _only_ Tony, and it was a profound feeling for a man who had once been perfectly willing to sleep with anyone who made googly eyes at him, or complimented him.

“You’re welcome, honey,” Tony murmured, catching his ear with his lips, playfully, and nipping him. “Let me show you around, and then we’ll get you settled.”

“In your room?”

He was just clarifying. They had professed their love for each other, but it was still new for Peter, and they still had some discussions that they needed to have. But they were under the same roof, Strange had pointed out, and that was a good start.

“In _our_ room,” Tony corrected. He stepped away from the coffee table, pulling Peter with him. “This is your home, too. I want you to remember that. Everything in here is yours.”

“Including _you_?” Peter asked, lightly, his expression happy and his eyes alive.

“Especially me,” Stark said. He hugged him, again, his hands sliding down Peter’s sides, to his jeans and then around to cup the younger man’s ass in his large hands. “I haven’t slept with anyone since you left, Peter, and I’m aching for you.”

Of course, he’d been so busy taking care of Benji, getting back into the swing of things at the tower, and handling all of the upheaval that he’d caused with the new baby that he hadn’t had time or the energy to even _look_ at another person, and Peter knew it. He and Tony had discussed it one of the evenings that they’d spent holing each other in the guestroom at the sanctum. There had been some careful petting, and light groping, but Stephen had been serious about his restrictions on their physical activities, and they’d both been careful not to take things too far while they’d been reuniting.

Peter had been hoping Tony wouldn’t be hesitant because he’d been ill, or because he was afraid that he’d upset him, or hurt him. Luckily, it didn’t seem that he was, to judge by the way Tony pulled him right up against his front, holding him close and kneading Peter’s rear through the denim of his jeans.

“I know…” He shivered, and leaned into the embrace, feeling his heartbeat quicken. “Show me around, Tony,” Peter whispered, pulling the older man’s head down to kiss him, soundly, before backing out of the hold. “Then we’ll have lunch, feed Ben, and see if he’ll take a nap.”

Tony smiled.

“That sounds like a plan.”

A good plan.


	38. 38

As it turned out, Benjamin wasn’t ready for a nap after he ate. Either he was just restless, or the addition to Peter to the apartment was enough to make him not want to sleep. When he was done with the bottle that Peter fed him, and had even tried a taste of the alfredo sauce from Tony’s penne pasta, he didn’t settle for a nap like he normally would. Recognizing that there wasn’t any sense in putting him down for a nap that he wasn’t ready to take, Tony put the baby on the padded blanket area just off of the kitchen and in the living room. There were baby toys, stuffed animals, and even little soft fabric books with simple alphabet themes all strewn neatly around for him to interact with, and Peter lowered himself onto the floor to watch him, rolling himself around, amazed – as always – by how much he’d grown in only a few months.

“He won’t be awake long,” Tony assured the younger man, enjoying the sight of the two on the floor, together. Most of the time _Tony_ was the one crawling around on the mat with Benji, but he wanted Peter to have a chance to interact with their son out of the carrier, too. “He was up pretty early.”

Peter clearly didn’t mind. He picked Ben up and put him in his lap, holding the baby’s hands and moving them, smiling when he giggled and looked up at him. The baby was babbling, making noises that weren’t really words – and wouldn’t be for many more months according to all of their books they’d read – and was clearly in a happy, contented mood.

“I could sit here with him for days.”

“You might have that opportunity,” the older man assured him with a smile. He decided that this was a good chance for them to have a conversation that they needed to have, though. “Did Stephen talk to you?”

“About what?”

“Us being physical…” Stark replied, candidly. He wasn’t worried about Benji listening in, obviously, and he wanted to make sure he and Peter were on the same page when it came to what they could – and should – do, together. And what they shouldn’t, yet. It would save any potential misunderstandings. “In _bed_ , I mean.”

“Not really,” Peter said. “He told me to make sure I didn’t do more than I felt ready for. Why? Did he talk to you?”

“He _did_. He reminded me that you’re still getting over being sick, and that you’re still a little… fragile, is the word he used. He told me that I should make sure that I’m careful with you for the next few months, when we’re together – again, in bed.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“I _am_.” Tony moved off the sofa and onto the mat next to Peter and Benji. “I want to make sure we don’t rush things and hurt you. So we’ll be careful.”

“We’re not going to have sex?”

“Oh, we _are_ ,” the older man assured him. “But I’m going to set the pace, and _you’re_ going to let me.”

Peter shrugged, smiling at the way Tony had immediately quelled the notion that they were going to be celibate.

“I don’t get a say in things?”

Tony leaned over and kissed him.

“Of course you do…” he replied. “You get to say “ _harder, Tony_ ”, and “ _Oh, fuck, right there_ …”, and make similar comments – and any noises that you want.”

The younger man rolled his eyes, amused as Tony had hoped he would be. Then his expression changed, slightly.

“I suppose I can live with that.”

“Good.”

“For how long?”

“Until you’re ready for more, I suppose. Stephen didn’t say there was a set timetable, or anything. He just mentioned it so I wouldn’t hurt you, without realizing what I was doing. Like I did, before,” he added.

“When I moved out, you mean?”

“Yes.” This wasn't something that they’d discussed, yet, beyond the initial conversation. Tony didn’t like being in the wrong, and he absolutely hated the fact that he could have saved Peter ( _and_ himself) a lot of heartbreak if he’d have spoken up before the younger man had moved from the estate. The fact that Peter had been in physical danger made it even worse, and Tony was going to make sure they never had that problem, again. “I should have told you how I felt.”

“It wasn’t just on you,” Peter pointed out, catching Ben before he could roll out of his lap. “I didn’t say anything, either.”

“Because of the _contract_ ,” the billionaire reminded him. “I didn’t have the same restraints in the contract that you did, honey. I should have seen what was happening – and should have listened to my heart when it told me not to let you leave us.”

Peter had been ready to argue with Tony about the depression thing being his fault, but he smiled, instead, at the phrasing the other man had used.

“It said that?”

“It screamed it,” Tony confirmed. “Said what the fuck are you doing letting him go?”

“Fuck.”

They both looked down at Benjamin, who was still holding Peter’s hands – although he’d alternate and chew on a finger, now and then.

“He did _not_ just say fuck…” Stark said.

“It _just sounded_ like it,” Peter replied, smiling. “He’s too young to start saying words, or even –“

“Fuck _… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_ …”

“Hey… no…” Tony reached over and pulled Benji from Peter’s lap, turning the baby so that he could look at him, eye to eye. “We don’t say that word, first,” he crooned, lovingly. “We say ‘daddy…’ or ‘Ironman is the best Avenger’… we do _not_ let anyone think that daddy says those words around you.”

Peter snorted.

“Maybe he’s just a mimic,” he suggested. “It just _sounded_ like fuck. It might have been-“

“ _Fuck_.”

“You’re not _helping_ , honey,” Tony chided – also amused, and amazed. The milestone books all said 12 months to start talking. Nine months for basic understanding of words being said around him. Could Benji really be ready for that? “We’ll have FRIDAY keep recordings going,” he added. “In case he does it, again – with a different word. That way I can show the pediatrician.”

“And maybe we’ll be a little more careful of what we say around him…?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” He smiled at the baby, who smiled back at him. “Benji? Say Da-da.”

Benjamin giggled, instead, and squirmed to go back to Peter, who took him with a cheerful heart and a happy soul. Maybe it was a _word_ , and maybe it was just a mimicry of the sounds that he’d been hearing, but Peter had been there to hear it. True, it wasn’t, necessarily, the best first word, and they’d probably want to wait until he said something else to start sharing recordings, but Peter was a part of it, and that meant everything to him.

“He’s going to be a genius,” Peter said, cuddling the baby, and looking at Tony. “Just like his daddy.”

Tony couldn’t help but smile.

“Isn’t that something…?”

><><><><><

_“Seriously?”_

“Yes.”

_“You heard it?”_

“I did – and so did Peter. Plain as day.”

“It’s a little early for him to be talking. He was probably just mimicking something that you were saying. Tell me you aren’t swearing around your six month old son…”

Tony rolled his eyes at the image of Stephen Strange.

“Well, not anymore. Obviously.”

The sorcerer smirked.

_“Obviously.”_ He was still smiling, though, when he spoke next. _“Your son being a chip off the old block aside, how is everything going?”_

Tony looked smug at that.

“We’re doing fine. We came home, and had lunch, talked out some of the things you and I discussed about being physical, and I _might_ have used a certain word that begins with the letter F while discussing things. Peter and Ben are having a long, one-sided conversation about the benefits of saying daddy, before using other words.”

_“You’re not helping?”_

“Apparently, I’ve helped enough.”

Strange chuckled.

_“You have it recorded?”_

“I do.”

_“Bring it, next week. I’ll want to see it.”_

“It doesn’t get leaked to the internet…”

“Whaaaat?” The other man was amused. “ _Of course, not. Call me if you need anything, otherwise, have a good day.”_

“We will. Thanks.”

The billionaire ended the call and looked back toward the living room and the noises that were coming from the two on the floor.

He couldn’t wait to tell the others about this.

Later.


	39. 39

“Hey, little man… _you’re_ supposed to be the sleepy one…”

Benjamin looked up at Tony, fingers still wrapped around Peter’s finger, oblivious to the fact that the younger man had fallen asleep cuddling with him, and was leaned back against the soft leather of the sofa with his eyes closed and his arm wrapped protectively around Ben.

Tony smiled down at him, but didn’t pick him up – even though he really wanted to. Holding Benji was one of his favorite pastimes, and he could literally spend all day doing it. He didn’t want to wake Peter, though, and knew that if he tried to slip the baby from his arms, he’d almost certain cause Peter to wake. The boy had had an exciting morning, and an emotional one. Tony was glad that he was relaxed enough to sleep, and the sight of him sleeping with Benji in his lap was so amazing that he actually felt his eyes sting.

Instead, he decided that he’d join them, and he slipped his shoes off before carefully settling into the space beside Peter on the sofa, putting an arm around the younger man and unable to stop himself from leaning over and brushing a kiss against his jaw as he rested his head on his shoulder.

Peter felt it, and made a sleepy noise, but didn’t open his eyes.

“Hmmm?”

“Shh, honey,” Tony whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Another noise of contentment, but Peter’s eyes opened, and he automatically looked down to check on Ben, who was quietly cuddled in Peter’s lap, and looked more than content to stay there for a while.

“He’s alright?” he asked, automatically.

“He’s fine, Peter,” Stark assured him. “And so are you – and so am I,” he added for good measure. He decided that since he’d woken him, he might as well make sure they were all a little more comfortable, and Tony made soothing noises as he sat up a little and moved Peter enough to allow the boy’s cheek to rest against his chest, now, instead of the back of the sofa. “Are you warm enough?”

“Mm-hmmm…”

He must have been, Tony decided, because he went right back to sleep – and Benjamin fell asleep only a few minutes after that. The billionaire thought about following suit and going to sleep, as well, but he wanted to enjoy the sensation of holding his little family in his arms, and instead of spending the afternoon napping, he spent the afternoon wallowing in the fact that they were both his.

><><><><><>

Their evening was a little less idyllic.

Benjamin woke with a wet diaper and a somewhat grumpy demeaner, and Tony was quick to reassure Peter that the fussy baby was fine. Nobody liked a wet butt, after all, right? Peter offered to change him, but Stark pulled the baby from his lap and pointed out that the wet diaper had leaked, somewhat, and Peter’s lap was damp, as well.

“Be glad that it wasn't a _shitty_ diaper,” he said, smiling, and leaning over to kiss Peter to soften the fact that he was taking Ben from him – even if it was just to change him. “They were bad enough when he was a newborn…” which Peter was very familiar with, of course. “Now that he’s eating a little solid food, it’s been a whole new world of disgusting…”

“Just from pureed stuff?” Peter asked, standing up and looking down at his lap and deciding that, yes, he did need to go change.

“It’s the worst,” Tony said. “You’ll have plenty of time to see for yourself.” He smiled. “Go change, honey, and then you can keep him occupied while I make dinner.”

BY the time Peter returned wearing sweats (and clean underwear) Tony had Benjamin changed, and now dressed in a onesie, preparing for the baby’s bedtime, even though they still had a few hours before he’d be ready to sleep, again. He smiled as he handed their son back to the younger man.

“He’ll play with you for a while, if you’re interested. Just take him to the mat and hang out with him.”

Peter appreciated the chance to spend more time with Ben, and a chance to learn the pattern that Tony and the baby had established. It was going to be his pattern, too, now, after all. He carried Ben over to the mat, talking to him and trying to get him to say any other words that might come – as long as they weren’t curse words, of course (although he secretly thought that it was hilarious that Ben’s first word was fuck). As Tony had predicted (mainly because he had three more months of experience with the baby than Peter did) Ben was wriggly, squirmy, and babbled at him, but settled enough to not be called grumpy, and was smiling again by the time dinner was ready.

Peter relinquished Ben to Tony, and ate his dinner, as he watched the billionaire feed Ben a bottle, first, and then offered him a taste of pureed carrots, and then swapped over to peas when the carrots were greeted with a scowl and sputtering that sprayed them back at Tony.

“I’m glad you’re amused,” the older man told Peter, wiping his face with his free hand, while Benji made smacking noises around the peas, as he debated whether he liked them, or not. “ _You_ get to give him applesauce in the morning with his breakfast.”

“Does he _like_ applesauce?” Peter asked, reaching for the baby, now, so Tony could have a chance to eat while Peter held Ben.

“No clue.” Tony smiled. “We’re right at the beginning of all of this, honey.” Peter knew that, since Tony had been catching him up during his visits to Peter at the sanctum. “So it’s all new to him. And us.”

“It’s exciting,” Peter said, looking down at the baby – who smiled up at him. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this.”

“So am I,” Stark agreed. “And so is _Benji_.”

That made Peter’s heart soar, even though he knew Ben probably didn’t care one way or the other. Tony was so good at making him feel like he was wanted – both by himself and by the baby – and Peter needed that, just then. The younger man smiled down at the baby, sliding his fingers along those dark curls.

“Thank you.”

Tony seemed to understand what he meant. His smile was tender and he reached out and patted Peter’s hand.

“You’re welcome.”

><><><><><>

With strong arms holding him, a warm pair of pajamas, and a belly filled with warm milk, Benjamin fell asleep less than half an hour after dinner. He fell asleep in Peter’s arms, listening to the gentle crooning of a lullaby that Peter had hummed to him even before he was born. Tony finished the dinner dishes about the same time Benjamin dozed off, and Peter smiled up at him when the older man walked over to the sofa to check on them.

“He’s so amazing…”

Tony nodded, feeling that same wonder that he always did when he looked at Benji.

“Yes. That he is.” He shook his head. “I knew he would be, though. I just had to find the right person to make him with, is all. Someone beautiful, and smart, and strong, and brave enough to try it…”

The compliments made Peter blush.

“He wasn’t going to be anything but amazing with you as a dad…”

“Hmm…” Tony’s expression was pleased, too. Everyone likes a good compliment, right? “Do you want to put him to bed?”

“Yeah.” It was his first night there, after all. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Alright.”

Tony kissed Benji’s cheek, carefully, and then kissed Peter’s for good measure. Then he vanished into their bedroom. Peter smiled down at the baby, waiting to see if the action would wake him, but the little guy slept on, even when Peter got carefully to his feet and carried him into the nursery. It was either a measure of just how tender Peter was, or maybe how tired Ben was, that he didn’t wake when Peter put him in his crib, either. Peter leaned over and kissed him, and then watched him sleep for a few long moments.

Then he left, closing the door, quietly, behind him and very much aware that FIDAY was there in case the baby needed anything.

><><><>

He heard the sound of the shower in the bathroom when he walked in, and Peter undressed, tossing his clothes over the dresser that now held many of his casual clothing. The water was still running when he finished, and Peter smiled, opening the bathroom door, and then walking over to the shower and opening that door, as well.

Tony was soapy, and wet, and beautiful, and the older man smiled when Peter joined him under the spray, sliding his arms around him and running a hand along his hip and then cupping his ass. He pulled Peter closer, his own hands finding Peter’s rear and his much larger body reacting to the nearness of the young man that he wanted so badly. That he ached to be with, and had missed so dearly.

“Hi, honey…” he murmured in Peter’s ear, catching the lobe between his teeth, carefully, for a moment before releasing it to kiss his jaw. “Ready for me?”

Peter nodded, already feeling his knees go weak as his heart started beating faster, his blood surging south in response to the touch and the softly uttered words.

“Yes…”


	40. 40

Tony made an approving noise as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against Peter’s ear.

“I’m so happy to have you here,” he murmured, his soapy hands sliding along Peter’s sides and along his hips and then cupping his perfect ass. “I know I’ve said it, before, but it doesn’t make it any less true.”

Peter shivered, despite the warm water spraying down on him.

“You could say it a million times a day,” he assured the older man. “I can’t hear it too much.”

Stark chuckled, and sighed, contentedly, hugging Peter for a long moment before he finally moved his hand down between their bodies, reaching for Peter’s already swelling cock, and caressing it, lightly, before cupping his testicles.

“You let them get hairy, again…” he chided, fondling them. “I liked them smooth.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to make the approving noise as he held still and enjoyed the sensation of having Tony’s hands on him, and his larger body looming against him.

“If you want them smooth, then you have to do it,” Peter told him, turning his head and pressing a kiss against Tony’s chest. “I don’t want to nick myself trying to do it.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said, moving his hand back to Peter’s shaft and stroking him, now, getting him hard. “Not this moment, though…”

“No.”

Peter reached blindly for the safety rail on the shower wall when Tony suddenly knelt down on front of him, his mouth taking Peter’s cock in without any preamble, or warning. The boy groaned as the head of his cock nudged the back of Tony’s throat and he looked down, admiring the sight that was Tony Stark giving him a blowjob. Not a quick one, either, Peter realized, when Tony pulled back, suckling just the head, and then took Peter fully into his mouth once more, making a hot squelching noise that only got Peter more excited. Tony clearly was going to enjoy himself, and was making sure that Peter enjoyed it, too.

“Jesus, Tony…” Peter murmured. “Yes…”

He rested his hand on Tony’s head, fingers holding the wet hair that was plastered to the billionaire’s scalp, but not taking firm hold and maybe hurting him. He just wanted to make sure that Tony didn’t stop what he was doing, just yet. His hips started rocking, slightly, as his ardor grew, and rather than stand up and get both of them out of the shower and into the bedroom, Tony simply redoubled his efforts, making it clear to Peter what he wanted.

Only a few minutes later, Peter grunted his release, and his cock jerked and spasmed, feeding Tony a load of cum that was swallowed, easily, and left the older man searching for more with one hand trying to milk Peter’s balls.

Peter was bracing himself with one hand still on Tony’s head and the other on the bar, and still he thought he was going to black out for just a moment. It had only been a _blowjob_ , true, but such a blowjob! And it _had_ been a long time, after all. Tony gave him a moment, and then pulled away, coming to his feet once more so he could catch Peter’s lips with his own.

“Enjoyed that, did you?” he asked, smiling, when he broke the kiss.

His eyes were amused, and dark with hunger.

“It was alright,” Peter replied, trying to be nonchalant but smiling when his voice cracked on the last word.

“We’re not done,” Stark assured him, reaching around the boy to turn off the water, and then pulling him out of the stall and grabbing up a towel.

Peter was counting on it. He didn’t, however, intend to allow him to do all the pleasuring. Peter knew Tony was a generous lover – he’d had him for the better part of a year, after all – but it was their first time together for months, now, and he wanted to participate, at least as much as Tony would let him.

He held still while the older man dried him off, quickly, but scattered kisses along his neck and shoulder as he did, but once Tony tossed the towel into the corner to be dealt with later, Peter pulled another and began drying Tony, as well.

“You’re so sexy, Tony…” he crooned, the towel patting the older man’s ass, and then coming around to his front where it lingered as Peter dried Tony’s swollen cock. “So pretty, too…” he added, kissing the other man’s nipple as he caressed him.

“Pretty much going to explode if you keep that up,” Tony told him, reluctantly pulling his midsection way from Peter with a smile to make sure he understood that he was enjoying it, just fine – he just wanted things to last a little longer for himself, right then. “I’m dry enough,” he added. “And so are you.”

Peter let him take the towel from him, and Tony’s arm went around the boy’s slighter form as he led him back out into the bedroom. He stopped, kissing him, hungrily, now, before he walked Peter backward toward their bed. When the backs of the boy’s knees touched it, Tony pushed him down onto it, nudging Peter’s legs apart so he could move between them.

“Fuck…”

Tony smiled down at him as he leaned over, hands flat and palms on either side of Peter’s torso.

“That the plan, honey,” he assured him, kissing Peter’s nose, and then his cheek, and licking his way to his jaw, and then down to his neck. “But at my pace, remember…”

Peter arched against his kisses, silently telling him just what he thought of the slow pace. He was ready, now. He wanted Tony to slide a couple fingers in him, get him ready and then lube himself up and shove that pretty cock deep inside Peter. The billionaire, however, had other plans and he was big enough and had the upper hand – as well as all the leverage – to make Peter be still and let him have his way with the boy.

One hand found Peter’s, interlacing their fingers together. The other continued to support himself as he peppered Peter’s upper body with kisses and teased his nipples. The boy’s chest was flat, again, he noticed. Not heavily muscled, but still well defined, but there was no sign of the breasts that Tony had suckled so many of their nights, together. It didn’t stop him from taking each nub into his mouth, however, and sucking them, nibbling them, and lavishing attention on them as Peter made the most wonderful noises in enjoyment. Tony shifted positions, then, forced to let Peter’s hand go as he drew his tongue along the slight scar that was from the C-section delivery, and then lowered his head once more to lap at the precum drooling from Peter’s throbbing cock. The boy arched against the touch, whimpering in his enjoyment, and Tony continued what he was doing, even as he reached for the tube of lube

“Don’t work yourself up, Peter,” he whispered, sliding a slick finger along the boy’s crack, before nudging the tight opening that was for him, and only him. “We’re supposed to be taking it easy on you.”

“I’m worked up,” Peter pointed out, propping himself up on his elbows to watch as Tony played with his cock with one hand while a finger forced its way into him. “Fuuuuck…” he head lolled back in pleasure as his ass tried to evict Tony’s searching digit, and then he arched once more as he felt what seemed like a surge of electricity go through him when Tony found his prostate. “ _Yes_ …”

The billionaire chuckled, enjoying Peter’s reactions almost – _almost_! – as much as he was enjoying the fact that _he_ was the one causing them. Another finger joined the first, and Tony began thrusting, gently at first, and then harder and deeper, giving Peter the rhythm as he prepared him, steadily, for more. He was limited to only once, that evening, and he was going to make sure that Peter (and he) made the most of it.

“Tony… Tony… there…”

Each noise the boy made was exciting, and Peter’s hands were clenched in the bedding, now, his eyes closed as he gave himself up to what Tony was doing to him, savoring the fact that he was – once more – exactly where he wanted to be. He was so wrapped up in that sensation that he didn’t notice when the other man pulled his fingers away, and took hold of Peter’s hips, hitching them just a little closer, and giving himself a different angle as he guided the head of his cock along Peter’s crack. He nudged the underside of the boy’s balls, silently reminding both of them of the opening that had once been there, and then he pressed against Peter’s still tight ass, and slowly forced the younger man to yield to him.

“You’re so perfect, honey,” he whispered, raggedly, as he resisted the urge to slam himself home, rather than take his time. Stark leaned over, catching Peter’s hands in his own, fingers once more threading with Peter’s as he held them above his head on the bedding. “So perfect for me. Such a good fit.”

As he spoke he was going ever deeper, reclaiming the boy as his own and then hilting with a sigh that Peter echoed.

“Yes…”

Tony looked down at him, feeling Peter’s legs come around his hips to hold him in place and leaning down to kiss a tear that was trailing down his temple.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

Maybe he’d cut the foreplay too much? He’d thought that Peter was ready, but it had been some time for both of them, and what if he had hurt-

“I’m fine,” Peter replied, smiling up at him. He rocked his hips, a little, as if to reassure. “It’s perfect…”

“Because I have a perfect cock,” Tony reminded him.

“ _Pretty_ ,” Peter corrected. “Not-“

Tony interrupted with a motion that made Peter’s breath hitch and he tightened his hold on the boy’s hands, holding him pinned to the bed with his hands, his heavier weight, and the fact that he was impaling him, just then. He drew back, and slid himself home once more.

“Perfect,” he murmured. “It’s perfect for you. Just enough to fill you up… just enough to make you moan… all you’ll ever need…”

Peter did moan, then, and he writhed a little under Tony when the older man began to thrust, pulling back, and sliding in, once, and then again, and then more times than Peter could count as he lost himself in the sensation of being so perfectly filled – just like Tony had said.

“Yes… right there…”

Tony looked down between them, fucking Peter more seriously, now, and making sure to rub the coarse hairs on his belly against Peter’s drooling cock, enjoying the way precum was smearing him with Peter’s own excitement. His thrusts were coming faster, now. Harder. More demanding.

“That’s it, honey…” he coaxed, heart beating faster, cock swelling even more as he drew closer to his release. “Take me, Peter… take it…”

The boy groaned and tensed under him, unable to hold back another climax – and really, not wanting to anyway. His cock spasmed and sprayed ropes of hot cum on himself and Tony. Even as he spiraled into that bliss that came with his utter release, he felt Tony drive deep and tense, as well, and then felt his insides being coated with waves of warm wetness as the other man came, too.

Tony collapsed on him, hands still holding Peter’s, body pinning him down, and both of them trembling with their release. Peter let go of one of Tony’s hands so he could run his fingers through those dark locks, savoring the weight on him, and enjoying the closeness after so long being apart.

“Am I too heavy?”

“You’re perfect.”

Stark snorted, and groaned as he forced himself to release Peter’s other hand and then prop himself up, and pulling out of his young lover.

“You are, too,” he said, leaning down and kissing him, and then getting up and vanishing into the bathroom for a moment.

Before Peter could wonder what he was doing, he returned with one of the used towels, which was still somewhat damp, and he used it to wipe his chest and belly, and then do the same for Peter – and then going lower and cleaning cum and lube from the boy’s thighs and balls, and then his own. Peter sat up, feeling a little sore and a lot satiated and content. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Tony’s belly, the man’s softening cock just under his chin.

“I needed that…” he murmured, so softly that Tony barely heard him.

“I did, too,” he agreed. His hand slid along Peter’s shoulder and neck, but when he felt the boy shiver, he stepped back and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get under the covers,” the billionaire suggested. “I need to be held, and I hope you’re ready to cuddle the fuck out of me. Now that you’ve had your way with me.”

Peter chuckled and pulled the blankets back, pointedly waving his ass in front of Tony as he did.

“I could be talked into that…”

“Good.”

Feeling cheerful, and happy, and optimistic, Tony pushed Peter into the bed, and followed.


	41. 41

A thin wail woke both of them much later.

It wasn’t actually the sound of Benjamin crying penetrating their bedroom, it was FRIDAY piping the noise from the nursery into their room over the speakers to let them know that the baby was waking and needed something. Fed or changed – although Tony had told Peter that the little guy was sleeping through the night, sometimes, and rarely needed a bottle if he woke up. Usually he’d simply play with the nipple of Tony presented him any formula and just want to be fussy for a while before settling back into sleep in his father’s arms.

“I’ll get him,” Peter said, sliding a hand along the older man’s side when Tony started to move to get up.

“You sure?” he asked, sleepily. “I don’t mind.”

“I know.” Peter leaned over and kissed his jaw before sliding out from under the blankets and away from Tony’s warm body. “I want to. Go back to sleep.”

Tony made a sleepy noise and did what he was told, while Peter made sure to tuck the blankets around him to keep him from getting chilled without Peter there to keep him warm. Never mind that he’d been keeping warm without him for months, before. He slipped on his sweats and walked out of the bedroom, heading for the nursery and the soft cries that were insistent but hardly ear-shattering. The nursery light came on at a low setting – FRIDAY’s way of making sure that the baby wasn’t startled. There was always a chance that he just needed changed, or something, and could be lulled back to sleep if he wasn’t startled, after all.

“What’s the matter, baby boy?” he whispered, softly, smiling as he picked the baby up. The onesie was dry, but Peter’s hand under Ben’s rear, felt the added wight of a wet (and maybe soiled) diaper. “Are you uncomfortable…?”

Ben cooed and babbled while Peter walked him over to the changing table. Padded and soft, Peter expertly held Ben’s wriggling body with one hand as he undid the bottom portion of the onesie, stripped off the soaking wet (but not poopy) diaper, dried Ben thoroughly and replaced diaper and onesie, once more.

“Would you look at that?” he crooned, picking Ben up and now cradling him against his chest, and feeling gooey inside at the way Ben turned his face into Peter’s neck. “I managed to do all of that without dropping you. I guess that’s a skill that is hard to forget once it’s learned.”

Ben didn’t answer. Instead, he fell to gumming the skin at the base of Peter’s neck, near his shoulder. He wasn’t crying, though, and he wasn’t fussy, which told the boy that he wasn’t hungry. He just wanted to be held – and Peter was willing to indulge him. Mainly because he loved holding him. He walked with him for a while, pacing the length of the nursery floor from door to crib, which was exactly seventeen steps, he now knew, and by the time he was ready to sit for a while, Ben had fallen asleep, once more, his open mouth still on Peter’s neck, but softly breathing through his nose.

Peter debated siting down and holding him, longer, but he didn’t. For one thing, it was late and while Peter didn’t actually have a job or anything to wake up for the next morning, he and Tony had plans for the day. It was Sunday, after all, and they needed to make sure that they were ready for everything that would come with the new week. And with their new dynamic, which was going to start with Tony introducing Peter to Rene (Ben’s nanny), Monday morning, and would carry through with him meeting everyone else that needed to know who he was. It was scary, really, for Peter, but exciting, too. He didn’t know how Tony’s friends and fellow avengers were going to react to him – they weren’t going to tell anyone about his giving birth to Ben, but the fact wasn’t going to be lost on anyone who had checked that the woman listed on Ben’s birth certificate had the same last name as Peter. Not to mention, Tony had pointed out, if you studied Ben, there were definitely some elements of Peter in the baby. His curls and his smile being the easiest to spot. Peter was going to be Ben’s uncle – who just happened to be Tony’s live in boyfriend.

“Nothing weird about that, right?” Stark had asked when he and Peter had discussed it.

He’d smiled, because he didn’t mind driving everyone crazy with the oddity of that situation, but he had asked Peter if the younger man wanted them to come up with something different. Something less weird? Peter had simply shaken his head, more than willing to go along with whatever story Tony wanted to use to explain them being together. He knew he couldn’t be mother in name to Ben, but he didn’t _need_ to be, really. He could live with the title of uncle, and the role of co-parent.

It was so much more than he’d ever dreamed he’d have.

Peter sniffed when he settled Ben back into the crib and covered him. The lights went out, again, as he left the nursery and closed the door, quietly behind him.

“Everything okay…?” Tony asked, rousing a little when Peter rejoined him, sliding out of his sweats and back into the bed.

“It’s fine,” Peter whispered. He sighed in contentment when the billionaire hooked an arm around him and sleepily pulled him against his warm body. “He went back to sleep without a bottle.”

“Mmm… good.” Tony kissed Peter’s ear, still mostly asleep. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

He meant it, too. He cuddled himself against Tony and went back to sleep.

><><><><><><

A large hand sliding along his side woke Peter from a dreamless sleep. He hadn’t been woken like that in a while, but he recognized the sensation for what it was and he made an approving noise, even while he stretched a little and rolled, slightly, hoping that the hand would moved lower. He was suddenly very much aware of the fact that he was naked, and that he ached just a little from being loved so thoroughly the evening before. It was a good ache and he smiled, his eyes still closed, which allowed him to focus only on that wonderful hand – which was now palming his flat stomach.

“You have a hickey…”

Tony’s voice was soft, and amused, and Peter opened his eyes, looking up at him.

“What?”

The older man smiled down at him, and Peter couldn’t help but be amazed at just how good looking he was. How wonderful those brown eyes that were so happy were.

“You have a hickey, honey,” Tony repeated, his hand moving to trace the bruise that was on Peter’s lower neck. “I happen to know that _I_ didn’t give it to you, last night…”

“Your son was gnawing on my neck while I walked with him,” Peter told him, smiling up at him and bringing his own hand up so he could run his finger along Tony’s jaw. “He must have given it to me.”

“So he’s _my_ son when he does something like that?”

“And when he says _fuck_ ,” Peter agreed. “He’ll be _our_ son when he’s making his acceptance speech for his Nobel…”

“You're so sexy in the morning…” Tony said, amused. “I’ve mentioned that, right?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t feel all that sexy, but he loved the compliment. He slid his hand from Tony’s jaw, down his neck, his chest and stomach and ended under the blankets where he found evidence that the billionaire had been awake for a while and had been thinking about him. “Do you think we have time before he wakes up for me to take care of this…?” he asked wrapping his fingers around Tony’s erection.

“Ugh… Stephen said we have to moderate our activities…” Tony reminded him, hitching his hips to feel Peter stroking him, even if he was doing all the work. “You’re supposed to be resting and recuperating.”

“I know.” Peter slid his thumb along the head of that pretty cock. “If you let me blow you, I’ll let you give me a hickey, later.”

“ _Anywhere_?”

Peter shivered, well aware that Tony’s hickey wouldn’t be on his _neck_.

“Absolutely.”

“Deal.”

Tony chuckled when the younger man sat up and pressed him, forcing him onto his back, but the noise ended in a sigh of utter pleasure when the blankets were pushed aside, and Peter leaned over and took him into his eager mouth.

If they had time, he might even put that hickey on his young lover before they got out of bed – although he’d avoid actually having sex with him until night-time. Once a day, Stephen had said, and Tony would hold himself to that restriction. For now. Later, though, all bets would be off. He felt a shudder go through him at the thought, and then turned his attention to what Peter was doing, more than willing to give himself up to the younger man’s ministrations.

They had plenty of time, after all. All the time they needed.


	42. 42

They spent Sunday with their son. He was old enough, now, that it was safe (and healthy) to take him outside for walks in a stroller – as long as the weather was clear. Of course, Tony hated being accosted by paparazzi at the best of times, and when he was with Benji, it was absolutely the worst of times. Add in that he wanted their day to be just the three of them and not be surrounded by a noisy crowd of people shouting questions and flashing cameras and microphones at them, it wasn’t something that he was interested in doing.

Instead, they went to Peter’s apartment, and the boy gathered some of his things to take back with him to Tony’s. To _theirs_ , Stark corrected when he’d suggested the errand. It was Peter’s, now, too. Which had earned him a smile – and a few tears that hadn’t been as heartbreaking as ones only a week before. The tears were still there, sometimes, but they were fewer and further between, Tony was pleased to see. He and Benji hung out in the living room, waiting patiently while Peter decided what he’d need. His clothes, for sure, and the new suits – which Tony had heartily approved of, since he knew they would look good on the boy, and there were definitely going to be times that they wanted to go out. He had a few personal items that he’d taken with him to the estate when the contract had begun, as well, which had left with him, but he hadn’t taken anything with him that hadn’t been his to start because he’d been trying to protect himself from heartbreak.

It hadn’t worked, of course, but he’d tried.

The task had left him a little melancholy, and Tony had taken him home and cheered him up with an afternoon of playing with their son and spending time together. When Benji had been put down for a nap, Tony and Peter had moved to the sofa and they spent the afternoon simply holding each other. No sex – not even mild groping – just gentle cuddling while Tony asked Peter about his time between now and when the boy had left the estate. Strange had mentioned it would be good for Peter to tell Tony about it – he’d mentioned it to both of them, to make sure there weren’t any misunderstandings – and Peter was frank about what he’d done.

At least as well as he could remember, for some of it.

“You didn’t get drunk and go on a bender…” Tony pointed out, brushing a reassuring kiss against the younger man’s ear. “Trying to drown your loneliness in booze and prostitutes.”

“Neither did you,” Peter replied.

“Because I had Benji to keep me on task,” Tony replied. “Otherwise, I might have done all of that and more. I missed you that much.”

Peter had snuggled closer.

“For a couple of smart guys, we’re kind of dumb, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.”

He’d admit that to Peter, but not to anyone else.

><><><><><>

“Wow… she’s kind of intense, isn’t she?”

“Incredibly so,” Tony replied, watching Peter’s reaction to the nanny walking away with their son’s carrier in one hand and diaper bag slung over her shoulder. The woman was lean, confident, and carried herself with the confidence that came with knowing nothing she was the best, and the most dangerous. “You want to see intense, though, wait until you meet Romanoff. She’s amazing.”

“I’m a little nervous to…” Peter admitted.

“No need to be,” Stark assured him. “She’s as deadly as they come, but she’s on our side. You’ll probably get along well with her.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she’s in love with Benji, and he’s a lot like _you_.”

Peter smiled at that.

“You think so?”

The baby was only 6 and a half months old, after all, and while he was beginning to show some personality, Peter hadn’t seen much of himself – only a lot of Tony.

“Yeah. I know so. I’ve been around him, more,” he pointed out. “And it wouldn’t stick out to you like it does to me. You’ll see.”

Peter had simply shrugged.

They spent the morning with Tony showing Peter around the tower. It was integral to who he was, after all, and it was where he’d be going every day, so it was important that Peter knew what went on there. He saw a lot of people as they went through the building, but he noticed that Tony didn’t actually stop and talk to many of them. The billionaire had planned on introducing Peter to his CEO, Pepper, but she’d been called away to a meeting in DC and wasn’t going to be back until later in the afternoon – and Tony had every intention of calling it a day long before she returned.

Peter could meet her another day, after all.

They had a nice lunch in a private dining area on one of the executive floors, and then Tony had taken Peter to his workroom. The older man had shown him all of his Ironman suits and Peter had been impressed, of course – who wouldn’t be? – but he’d shivered in pleasure when Tony had locked the door behind them and had pulled the boy into his arms for a kiss that had started tender and light, but had deepened into something that left both of them breathless when Peter had finally been forced to come up for air.

Tony hadn’t bent him over the worktable and made love to him, but he admitted to Peter that he was sorely tempted to do just that, and had fantasized about it unlimited times.

“Not to mention how exciting it would have been to conceive Benji, here,” he added, grinding his hips, lightly, against Peter’s pelvis. “I normally do my best work right here…”

“If you keep that up I’m going to have trouble walking,” Peter had told him, kissing him, again.

He was already achingly hard, just from the visualization that Tony’s words were causing. Not to mention the pressure of his somewhat aroused cock pressing against Peter so insistently.

Stark hadn’t been too apologetic, but he’d pulled back enough to allow both of them a chance to cool off. Just in time, it turned out, since Rene called to let Tony know she was bringing Benji back a little early – and at the same time FRIDAY notified him that Pepper was back from DC and was pulling up to the front of the building, now.

“You’re sure you’re okay with being the uncle…?” Tony asked Peter, sliding his hand along the boy’s cheek. “It’s a crazy enough story, true, but if anyone would expect me to do something insane like that, Pepper’s probably the one who’d believe it.”

Peter shook his head.

“I’m fine. Really.”

><><><><><>

Despite being tired from her trip and her meeting, Pepper had been gracious and nice to Peter – probably reacting to his youth and the palpable vulnerability that Tony knew still surrounded the younger man. She’d asked a few discreet questions – nothing too personal for a first-time meeting – and had clearly been charmed by the answers, and by Peter, himself.

They’d been interrupted by Benji and Rene coming directly to Pepper’s office, since that was where Tony was. She’d handed the carrier over, and apologized, saying that the diaper bag was in the car, and she’d be back with it, in a minute. Peter had immediately offered to go with her and bring it back, to save the trip, and the nanny had accepted with a smile of thanks.

“He’s a little young, isn’t he…?” Pepper asked, making sure the door had closed behind Peter and Rene before speaking up.

Even then, she wasn’t being rude, or anything. She was just making an observation.

“He’s _perfect_ ,” Tony assured her, pulling his son from the carrier, and smiling down at him. “A young guy like him can keep up with me and Benji better than someone my age could.”

Pepper smiled, too – mainly because the baby was absolutely adorable.

“What is he planning on doing?”

They’d told her that Peter was a student, who had taken a year off. True enough, after all.

“He’s independently wealthy,” the billionaire said, shrugging. It was a way to reassure her that Peter wasn’t after Tony’s money. “I think he’s planning on going back to school, but we’ll have to see.” He turned Benji around on his lap, bouncing him slightly, as the baby smiled up at Pepper. “Who were you meeting with in DC?”

“McCann,” she replied, reaching out and taking Ben into her arms. He was just too cute not to cuddle. “Originally, it was supposed to be him and just him.”

Her tone of voice was annoyed, then.

“Who showed up?”

“Hammer.”

Tony scowled at that – which wasn’t unusual. He always scowled when Justin Hammer’s name came up. Pepper did, too.

“What did he want?”

“The usual…” she rolled her eyes, obviously reliving the meeting, which had clearly been full of his smooth talking condescending BS. “He’s such a…” she made an annoyed noise as she tried to think of a good word, but couldn’t come up with anything vile enough to vent her thoughts of the man. “He’s just a _fuck_ , you know? I want to strangle him, sometimes, and the way-“

“Fuck.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked down at the baby she was holding.

“Did he just-“

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Tony allowed his jaw to drop, and his eyebrow to come up to his hairline.

“Pepper Potts… what on earth are you teaching my son…?”


	43. 43

“Sure you don’t want to come with me?”

Peter smiled and shook his head. He was holding Ben, who was dressed and ready for a busy day of hanging out with Rene, and had just finished eating breakfast with Tony.

“You didn’t get anything done, yesterday.”

“I spent time with you.”

Which, of course, made the younger man feel good. Good enough that he could send Tony out into the world without him, assured that he’d be back – with their son – that afternoon after he was done at the tower.

“And I needed it,” he replied. “But I have some things to look into today, and that means you don’t have to keep me company.”

Tony frowned, and Peter knew he’d phrased it poorly.

“Spending time with you isn’t a _chore_ , honey,” he told the boy. “I enjoy it.”

“I know.” The boy smiled, again, and leaned over Ben to kiss Tony – and then kissing Ben when the baby made a sound that seemed suspiciously happy. “But you have things you need to get done, and I want to do some research of my own…”

Peter had mentioned to Tony that he might be ready to start thinking about starting up some classes, again, and Stark had been all for it, knowing that being busy and keeping his mind active would make Peter feel better. It would certainly make him feel like he was doing something rather than just laying around the apartment all day like a lout.

“We’ll be home by five,” The older man said, getting to his feet and leaning down to kiss the top of Peter’s head. “If you want to be creative, you could make dinner, tonight. If you’d rather not, I’ll take you and Benji out.”

“I’ll make dinner,” Peter replied. “Craving anything?”

Tony smirked, and leaned over, again, and this time his lips brushed Peter’s ear.

“What I’m craving you can’t put on a plate,” he whispered. “And I’ll have it, tonight, after we go to bed.”

Peter chuckled, and handed Ben over to him so he could get him into his carrier. Tony was still treating Peter’s physical health with a lot of caution, and while he was thorough in his loving each night, he was also careful, and gentle. Peter liked that – and he certainly was enjoying it – but he liked sex a little rough, sometimes, too, and he knew from plenty of experience that Tony was exceptional at somehow knowing just how rough to make it so that Peter was a drooling mess at the end of the night.

“Pot roast it is,” he said, getting up to make sure the diaper bag had everything Rene would need for Ben that day. “There’s a market down the block. I think I’ll walk down and check it out – see what kind of fresh vegetables they have.”

“Do you have enough money?” Tony asked. Peter had picked up his wallet from his old place when they’d been there, and Tony had had FRIDAY verify that his cards were all still valid, and that his funds hadn’t been placed on security holds for lack of use the last month or so, but he hadn’t actually checked to see if Peter had any cash money with him. “Those little places don’t always take credit cards.”

“I’m good.”

Tony kissed him, again.

“If you need anything, call me.”

“I will.”

“ _FRIDAY_? If he needs anything, call me.”

_“Of course.”_

Peter smiled at that and handed Tony the diaper bag.

“Have a good day at work, _dear_.”

The older man smirked, amused.

“Thank you, honey.”

Peter walked him to the door, holding it for him, and then sighed when it closed behind Tony and Ben. He’d meant it when he’d told Tony that he didn’t need to be kept company all day, but he did enjoy having the man around him. If for no other reason than because he was extremely adept at making sure Peter knew how happy he was to have him around – which was always a pleasant feeling, wasn’t it?

_“Did you want me to assist you with your research for your fall classes?”_ FRIDAY offered, surprising Peter, who decided that Tony might have told the AI to be more assertive than usual, that day. FRIDAY was always willing to reply to any questions or requests that Peter asked or made, but usually didn’t speak up unless spoken to. _“I took the liberty of looking up the classes you last took and finding any that were in the same course creation.”_

“Thanks.” Peter started picking up the dishes from the table so he could wash them while he did his research – he was getting very used to having the assistance of the incredible AI, and that made researching a lot easier. Tony definitely designed amazing things, didn’t he? “Are they engineering?”

_“And calculous,”_ the AI said, a display coming on near the sink showing three different possible schedules. _“You just need to decide if you want online classes, or if you want to attend regular sessions, and what days you want to do it.”_

“Wow. That was easy.”

Peter wanted to take classes at the school. He’d make sure, though, to discuss it with Tony, so they could make any schedule adjustments that they might both need. It wasn’t all about him, after all – even though Tony liked to make it that way, sometimes.

_“That’s what I do best,”_ FRIDAY assured him, and Peter thought that he could actually hear a little smugness in the AI’s tone.

“Too bad you’re not programmed to load the dishwasher…”

Teasing an AI like FRIDAY was almost the same as teasing Tony. Probably because she’d spent so much time with him, she’d come to sound a little like him.

_“I’m going to forget you even suggested that.”_

Peter chuckled, and the apartment felt much less empty, suddenly.

><><><><><>

_“I hear you have a new guy…”_

Tony scowled, but it was only half-hearted. He wasn’t surprised that Natasha Romanoff had found out about Peter. She was the one who had suggested Rene as Benji’s bodyguard/Nanny, after all, and Rene would want to make sure that SHIELD was aware of anyone who was spending any length of time with Tony. Someone living with him? That definitely had warranted a conversation with Natasha, he was certain.

“There might be someone, yes.”

_“Staying with you?”_

“ _Living_ with me,” Stark corrected. “Staying with implies that it’s temporary, and Peter is definitely not going anywhere any time soon.”

It was _her_ turn to scowl.

_“Peter Parker?”_

“Peter _Benjamin_ Parker,” Tony agreed. “Have you looked him up, yet?”

_“What? Of course not.”_ Of course she had. _“Who is he?”_

“A friend of a friend.”

FRIDAY’s creation of Peter’s non-existent deceased twin sister was iron-clad, and not even Natasha’s formidable resources would be able to get beyond them, so Tony knew that while she might have looked up Peter, and found that tenuous connection to a twin, she wouldn’t have even close to what she’d been looking for. Especially since Tony had had FRIDAY go a step further than that, and had shielded the entirety of Peter’s records, as well. All Romanoff would have found were school records, and whatever social media the boy was using – which wasn’t much and hadn’t really been much even before Tony met him.

Peter had been too busy with school and work to do much more.

_“When do we get to meet him?”_

“It depends…”

_“On…?”_

“ _Why_ you want to meet him.”

_“He’s spending time with you,”_ she pointed out. _“I’d like to get to know him. Make sure he isn’t a psycho, or something.”_

“He isn’t a psycho.”

_“I’m a better judge of that than you are.”_

Probably true. He debated making her wait. For one thing, Peter was still a little fragile, right? He shouldn’t be getting subjected to the Avengers. Especially to Natasha who would probably stare at him with that killer assassin look that she had, and maybe frighten him. For another, the Avengers were a lot of excitement, really, and he didn’t want Peter getting too wound up. If the boy was going to be excited, _Tony_ wanted to be the cause of it. Not meeting Steve Rogers and the others.

Of course, if he made them wait, it was very possible that Romanoff might come stalking Peter, just to see who he was, and what he was like. She didn’t appreciate a mystery, after all. That might frighten Peter more, if he found out.

“What did you have in mind?”

_“Something casual.”_

“I’ll think about it.”

<><><><><>

_“How’s it going?”_

“I’m good.” Peter smiled at the image of Tony on the display. The older man was in his office, he could see – and looked like his day had been busy but not terrible. “You?”

_“Working on some merger stuff that Pepper is making me do.”_ He rolled his eyes. _“She’s mad at me.”_

“Why?” Peter asked. “Because she found out that she isn’t the one that taught Ben to say _fuck_?”

_“I knew she’d figure it out,”_ Stark admitted. _“I just didn’t think she’d figure it out so quickly…”_

“How did she find out?”

Peter was the only other person that knew, after all, and Tony had sworn him to secrecy.

_“Apparently he said ‘baby’, this morning to Rene, and when she called to show me the video, Pepper was with me and heard.”_

Peter smiled.

“So he really is _speaking_ …? It wasn’t just a one and done mimic thing?”

Tony smiled, too.

_“Yeah, honey, he must be. Only five months ahead of schedule. It’ll be interesting to see what his pediatrician says about it.”_

“We’ll have to be careful around him,” Peter said. “If he’s picking up words… we don’t want him repeating any more swear words.”

_“I didn’t think we’d have to worry about that for a while, but you’re right. Did you start dinner, yet?”_

“No. Why?”

_“Because some friends of mine want to meet you.”_

“Work friends?”

Peter didn’t think Tony had any work friends.

The amused expression on the handsome face confirmed it.

_“_ Avenger _friends.”_

Peter felt a little rush of excitement and anticipation.

“They want to meet me?” he repeated. “Or you’re making them come over to meet me?”

_“They want to meet you. I tried to talk them out of it, until you’re settled in a little better, but they ganged up on me. Do you think you’re up for it? I can tell them we’ll raincheck and do something a different day.”_

“No. I’m okay. Really.” He hesitated, thinking about a side project that he’d been considering all day. “Are we going out to eat? Or did you want me to make something?”

_“It’d be more relaxing if we ate at our place. Then we won’t have fans rushing up and asking for autographs. But you don’t have to cook. We can get a catered meal.”_

“I don’t mind cooking. How many will there be?”

_“Five or six.”_

“Will Captain America be coming?”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

_“Do you_ want _him to come?”_

“Yes. I want to talk to him about something.”

There was only the slightest of pauses at that, and the billionaire nodded.

_“He’ll be there.”_

“Great.”


	44. 44

“This place smells amazing…”

Tony smirked.

“That’s me.”

Romanoff rolled her eyes, amused, and handed him her jacket.

“You smell like beef and something savory?”

“It’s my new aftershave,” he said, taking Steve’s jacket when he handed it to him – and then taking Sam’s – and _Nick’s_ , although he was surprised to see the SHIELD director. Maybe he shouldn’t have been, though. “Designed to make me irresistible.”

Romanoff had already walked into the living room area of the apartment and smiled when she saw Benjamin sprawled on the floor, sitting up, but looking a little wobbly as he looked up at the new arrivals.

“There’s my little guy!” she said, picking him up, easily, and making the baby giggle when she did. “Who’s an adorable little Avenger? Huh? Huh?”

Tony rolled his eyes to see such a dangerous woman – normally – turn into a babbling idiot in the blink of an eye. Of course, _he_ was no better when it came to Benji, so it was understandable, he supposed. The little guy was cute, what could he say?

“He sure is getting big,” Nick said, also amused at Romanoff.

“I heard he said his first word, today…?” Natasha said, looking at Tony.

“Fuck…”

They all turned toward the baby, eyes wide in every case but Tony’s. He just rolled his, again, torn between amusement and mortification.

“What the hell, Tony?” Sam asked, looking scandalized to hear such an unexpected four-letter word come from such a little guy. “What are you teaching him?”

“Hell…” Benji echoed. “Hell. Hell. _Fuck_.”

Stark scowled.

“Stop _swearing_ around him. He’s not even supposed to be talking for another five months, at least, and he’s picking up words left and right – so you have to be careful what you say.”

“Obviously,” Nick said, smiling and reaching for the baby, taking him from Natasha before she could turn to avoid the theft. “Come here, little man,” he crooned, making Ben giggle up at him. “Let’s see if you can say words that won’t get you kicked out of church…”

The SHIELD director carried Ben toward the sofa, and Romanoff made a show of looking around.

“Where’s Peter?”

Tony draped all of their jackets over the back of a recliner.

“He went to the store. He’s on his way back.” He looked at the people around him. “And since he isn’t _here_ , let me remind you all that he is not to be interrogated, or badgered for personal information. Ask general questions and let him decide what he wants to tell you about himself.”

“We’re not going to _interrogate_ him,” Sam assured him. He gave Romanoff a sidelong glance, and shrugged. “ _I’m_ not, anyway.”

The assassin frowned, and then shrugged.

“I’m not, either.”

There were other ways to get information, she knew. You didn’t always have to ask questions. Just watching what was going on around you could work just fine, as well.

“Thank you.” He headed for the kitchen. “Anyone want a drink?”

“You’re serving alcohol?” Steve asked. “I thought Peter wasn’t old enough to drink…”

He hadn’t heard too much about the young man, but the first that he’d heard was how young he was. Of course, they all knew that Tony had a preference for younger guys, so it wasn’t a huge surprise – and Romanoff had remarked on the fact that the mother listed on Benjamin’s birth certificate had had the same last name as Peter. It could be a coincidence, but none of them actually believed in coincidences.

“Peter isn’t,” Tony agreed. “He’s _nineteen_. But you guys are.”

They followed him into the kitchen – all but Nick, who settled on the sofa with Ben, trying to convince the baby to say Nick. It was a lot easier than _daddy_ , after all, he pointed out, smiling at the little guy. Everyone else had joined him with assorted drinks in hand and were on the various chairs and couch watching as Ben babbled at Nick when the door opened and Peter walked in with a bag of groceries in his hand.

He looked a little nervous – but not surprised – which told Tony that FRIDAY had probably sent him a heads-up that the others had arrived while he was gone. The younger man smiled, somewhat shyly, and Tony thought that he looked adorably delicious, just then. He got to his feet, setting his drink on the coffee table.

“Here he is,” he said, smiling as he walked over to take the bag from the boy. “Peter, honey, I have some people for you to meet.” He led him over to stand in front of the chairs and the sofa, and pointed. “That’s Natasha. That’s Sam. That’s Steve, and that’s Nick.”

“ _Nick_!”

Fury gasped, and his eyes widened as he smiled down at Ben.

“That’s right, little man. Say it, again.”

“Fuck.”

Fury’s single eye rolled in exasperation, and Peter couldn’t help but smile – despite the vulgarity.

“He learned a new word,” he said, cheerfully.

“He’s learned two,” Tony pointed out. “Did you get everything that you needed?”

“Yeah.” It was mainly just some bread rolls since he hadn’t had time to make them from scratch. Peter looked at the others. “It’s an honor to meet you all.”

“We’re happy to meet you, too,” Sam told him, walking over to shake hands. “How are you doing?”

“I’m well, thanks.” He smiled when Steve walked over to shake hands, as well, the older man relaxed and cheerful. “Wow.”

“Avenger overload?” Natasha asked, giving him her best smile as she came over, too.

“A little,” he admitted. “I’ve seen all the videos and stuff, but it’s crazy to be here, meeting you guys in person.”

“Well, if your cooking tastes as good as it smells, you’ll be seeing a lot more of us,” Wilson said.

Peter had already lost the nervousness, Tony was pleased to see. He walked over and set the groceries on the kitchen island, but he took care of them, leaving Peter free to talk to the Avengers and get to know them better.

><><><><><><>

“That was incredible… Thank you.”

Peter smiled, blushing slightly at the sincere compliment, but bowing with a flourish to Natasha.

“My pleasure.”

She smiled at that, and looked over at the baby, who had been given a bottle, and was now being cuddled in Steve’s powerful arms. Steve had easily convinced him to say _Steve_ , and was trying to get him to say it, again. So far, they’d heard _Nick_ thirteen times, the occasional swear word – and one _baby_ , which had made Tony and Peter both smile.

“We’ll have to do it, again, sometime soon,” Sam told him – and Tony. “Tomorrow?”

Stark smiled, pleased at the implied compliment toward Peter, and happy with the way things had gone. The Avengers had been great; they’d asked Peter questions about his schooling, and what he thought he might want to do when he was finished with school. They asked him about his cooking abilities as they’d eaten a fine meal that he’d assured them was as good as he could do, and had asked him where he’d learned. Peter had mentioned being self-taught, and that had impressed them all.

“You could take cooking classes and become a chef,” Steve had pointed out.

“It’d be something to think about,” Peter had replied.

Tony hadn’t liked that idea, at all. Chefs worked long – _long_ – days, and Stark didn’t really want to share Peter with an entire restaurant of people five days a week, or more. Peter was on a course track now that would turn him into an engineer of some sort – although he hadn’t completely decided what he wanted to specialize in – and Tony was all for that. It was still a very respectable career, and paid well (even if Peter didn’t really need to worry about that), and Tony could help him in whatever he decided to do that way.

Could even have him work with him, maybe.

“Tomorrow is out, guys,” Stark told them. “I’m not sharing Benji with you two days in a row.”

Steve smiled down at the baby and then over at Peter.

“Fair enough. But we do owe you for a very nice evening. Thank you.”

Peter shrugged. And then leaned forward, a little.

“Actually… I did want to talk to you about something. You… and maybe Sam? Or Nick?”

“Oh?” All three who had been mentioned turned their full attention on the young man. “What’s up?”

><><><><><

“How do you feel?”

Peter sighed, and put his arms around Tony, burying his face in the other man’s chest.

“A little tired. It was fun, though,” he added. “I had a good time.”

Tony hugged him, close, and kissed the top of his head.

“So did I. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being willing to meet them.”

“They’re part of what you do,” Peter reminded him, turning his head so he could rest his cheek against Tony, and be understood when he spoke. “I needed to meet them. And let them meet me. They were really nice.”

“Yes. They were.” He’d have to remember to thank them for that. The billionaire slid his hands lower, along Peter’s back, and then his sides and his hips. “Why don’t I finish doing the dishes, and you go put Benji to bed?”

The baby was already asleep, lulled that way by Natasha as they’d sat around after dinner and simply chatted a while.

“And then you’ll meet me in the shower?” Peter suggested, his own hands working their way under Tony’s shirt.

He was never shy about asking for what he wanted from Tony – and the older man liked that. It was exciting.

“Yes. You can wash my back,” he murmured.

“And then…?”

“And then I’ll fu-“ he looked over at the sleeping baby, his eyes narrowing, suspiciously. Maybe he wasn’t asleep? Maybe he was listening in? Waiting for another word to repeat? “And then I’ll _love_ you – in bed and naked – all night.”

Peter chuckled, and the sound made Tony’s heart happy.

“Sounds like the perfect end to a very good day.”


	45. 45

“Peter!”

The young man turned his attention from the playground area at the sound of his name being called, and smiled when he looked up at the wizened face of Gus. His smiled widened when he saw that Sam was walking over to the bench that he was on, as well.

“Hey, Gus.” He moved, slightly, to the side, a silent invitation for the two men to join him. “How are you?”

“We’re the same as we always have been,” Sam told him, sitting down, but studying him, carefully. Peter knew that he looked much better than he had the last time the two men had seen him. He was healthier, of course, cleaner, and was wearing fresh clothes and sporting a new haircut. Three weeks of living with Tony, now, and the time before that in the sanctum had left him feeling more like himself, and he was definitely happier, and more content – and it showed. “Hanging in and getting by. Where have you been?”

“You had us worried, boy-o,” Gus added. “When you didn’t show up, and one of the others said they’d seen you being taken by some richly dressed dude… thought sure someone had snatched you.”

“You look okay, though,” Sam said. “Are you alright? Need anything?”

“Are you hungry?” Gus asked – which was his go-to question, since he knew hunger was one of the biggest concerns for anyone living rough.

“No.” Peter smiled, feeling a great welling of appreciation for the two men. Men that he barely knew anything about, but who had helped him as much as they could – and hadn’t known him, or wanted anything in return for doing it. He’d been in the worst place in his life, and they were the ones who had kept him together until Stephen and then Tony could rescue him. “I’m good. I’m better than good, even,” he added, smiling.”

“You look good.”

“Where have you been?” Sam asked him. “Someplace safe?”

“Someplace with a _shower_ , looks like.”

That made the smile grow, and Peter stood up, turning so he could look at both of them.

“I was – and I _am_ – with some friends,” he told them. “Friends that didn’t know where I was, or that I needed them to come find me.” He shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “But I came looking for you two, because I owe you for keeping me safe while I was so out of it.”

Both men waved off the comment.

“Pssh. You don’t _owe_ us. We’re just glad to see that you look better. _Happier_.”

“I am,” Peter confirmed. “Better _and_ happier. But I was in a bad place – in my head, that is – and there are a lot of people out there who could have taken advantage of that. And me. Or hurt me. You guys fed me and made sure I had a warm place to sleep.”

“We’d have done it for anyone, Peter,” Gus reminded him, although the boy noticed that he was blushing, slightly. “It was the right thing to do.”

“I agree. It was the right thing to do,” Peter replied. “But that didn’t mean that you had to do it. I’m so grateful that you did, though. I want to do something…”

“Just pay it forward,” Sam told him. “You know how that works, right? Find the next guy that’s struggling, and help him out, if you can.”

“I can do better than that,” Peter told them, turning his upper body, slightly, toward the play area, and waving a hand before he turned back to the two men on the bench. “And I’m going to make sure that _you guys_ can, too.”

“What do-?” Sam frowned, looking behind Peter as a couple of figures separated themselves from the playground equipment and a woman with a baby and had headed their direction. “Holy _hell_ …”

Gus was already getting to his feet, eyes wide, and automatically coming to attention as Steve Rogers walked up to the three of them – with Tony Stark beside him.

“Jesus…”

Sam had snapped to, as well, by the time that Steve and Tony reached them, and both of the old men saluted Rogers, who took the gesture in stride and returned the salute, crisply, before smiling at them.

“At ease, men.”

Both of them relaxed, but just.

“Sam? Gus? You know Steve, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Gus said, offering Rogers his hand. “It’s an honor, sir.”

“The honor is mine,” Steve assured him, turning to Sam and offering him his hand, as well. “Peter tells me you’re both vets…”

As if the display he’d just seen didn’t tell him that, already.

“We served on the Ike, together,” Sam said. “Out of Groton. Did Med cruises, saw action in Beirut and the north Pacific, and spent a lot of time rescuing sailors in the Mediterranean. Honorably discharged in ’95.”

“And now you’re here in the park rescuing lost souls,” Tony said, with none of his usual sarcasm or cynicism in his tone.

Both men were so stunned by the arrival of Captain America that neither seemed to have registered that Tony Stark was also present – until he spoke up. And then there was no way to not notice him.

“We were just doing what was right…” Gus repeated. He looked at the two men, at Peter, and then back at Stark. “You know Peter?”

“I _do_ ,” Tony confirmed. “And I’m one of the people that he was talking about when he mentioned that his friends hadn’t known where he was, or that he needed us. He told me what you did for him, and I definitely owe you two – even more than _he_ does, really.”

“You don’t, Mr. Stark,” Sam replied, shaking his hand. “We’re happy he’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Gus was over the shock, somewhat. “It’d be an insult to try and reward us for doing what’s right.”

“I thought you might see it that way,” Peter said, grinning. “And I told Tony that you wouldn’t want a monetary reward.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes at that.

“You two are vets,” Steve said, taking up the conversation. “You know about service to your country and to her people.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, when Peter told me about you – and about the other vets that are in a similar situation as you – he told me that we definitely should be doing something about it. You deserve better than what you’re getting, for what you did.”

“So they spoke with me,” Tony said. “Naturally. And I pointed out that if you aren’t doing anything else all day, you should probably be put to work.”

“How do you mean?” Sam asked, uncertainly.

“I have a lot of money,” Peter said, smiling. “And I put it up to start a foundation.”

“And then, since he doesn’t have even close to the amount of money that I do, I doubled it, and helped him build on the idea.”

“And then,” Steve said, his blue eyes amused. “I went to some friends of mine at the Pentagon and pointed out that there are a large number of homeless vets out in the street and that their country owes them better than what they’re getting – and they agreed. So they doubled what Peter and Tony contributed.”

“And now we have a foundation,” Stark told them. “It has a name – _The Parker Foundation_ – and it has office space in Stark tower – along with the funding to get everything set up. But that’s about it.”

“What it needs,” Peter said. “Is the right kind of people working for it. People who are vets, and can reach out to other vets. To assure them that it isn’t a charity, so they won’t think they’re getting a handout, or something, and let their pride get in the way of getting them the help that they need – and deserve.”

“People like you two,” Steve added, pointedly.

“What would this foundation do?” Gus asked.

“Whatever we need it to do,” Tony replied. “Affordable housing. Education grants. Job training. Healthcare over whatever they get, now. Counseling. Rehab. It’s an all in one stop, really.”

“You guys won’t be running it,” Peter assured them, not wanting them to think that he was dumping the project in their laps. “But I think you could do a lot of good working for it. It’d be a paid position, too, and _good_ pay. Not just a stipend. What do you think?”

Gus looked at Sam, and then at Rogers.

“You looked into this Foundation?”

“I’m going to back it, entirely,” he confirmed. “It’s a fine idea, and one that is near to my heart, obviously.”

“Are you going to be running it?” Sam asked Peter.

The boy shook his head.

“I’m not qualified. Tony is going to find a few people – veterans, by preference – to be in charge. We’d like you and Gus to be ready to meet with candidates for the job. To make sure you can work with them, that kind of thing.”

“It’s a good opportunity,” Steve told both men.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Sam agreed, smiling. “We accept.”

Gus nodded his agreement, and that made Peter smile, too.

“Then it’s settled.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, which he handed to Sam. “Find someplace to stay – you need a permanent address – and get whatever you need. You guys start next Monday.”

Tony handed Gus a business card.

“If you need anything, that’s the number to call.” It wasn’t his number, but it was Rhodey’s. He was on board with the idea, as well, and while the military (and the government) wasn’t going to be in charge of the Foundation, they were welcomed to be a part of it. The foundation Peter had in mind wasn’t _just_ for vets, of course, but it was a good starting point. “Day or night.”

“Thank you.”

Stark smiled, and it was a genuine one.

“Thanks for taking care of Peter for me.”

The boy smiled, clearly pleased.


	46. Epilogue

“That’s it…” Tony’s voice was filled with encouragement and his eyes were cheerful as he looked at Benjamin, who was watching him, but holding tightly to Peter’s hands where the younger man was holding them on either side – from behind. “You can do it, Benji… come to poppa…”

The baby giggled, wriggling as he stood on wobbly legs, leaning his weight first on one of Peter’s hands, and then on the other – although sometimes he was right in the center, and didn’t seem to need the support, at all.

“Poppa…”

“Don’t get distracted, Ben,” Peter told him. He was on his knees behind the baby, holding him up with the grip on his hands, but ready to let him go the moment it seemed he was ready. “Show daddy what you can do.”

“You know,” Stephen Strange said, watching the two men and the baby, intently, from his position on the sofa. “If you two would come up with a mutual resolution on what you’re going to call him – and what he’s going to call you – it might be less confusing for him. “

And for Strange, for that matter.

“He’s fine, Stephen,” Tony said, not taking his eyes off Benji. “It’ll just make his vocabulary grow…”

The sorcerer snorted.

“I’ve _heard_ his vocabulary,” he reminded Stark. “The _amount_ of words that he knows isn’t the issue – it’s the ones that you’ve taught him that are problematic.”

The two men smiled at that, and Tony turned his attention to Peter for just a moment, feeling a rush of warmth go through him as he always did when he looked at the boy. Peter was at the beginning of his first quarter of college since the contract had begun, and he was doing amazing. Balancing a full load of classes – which were tricky ones, to boot – keeping tabs on the Parker Foundation, and also being mom/dad to Benji, boyfriend/confidant and lover to Tony would seem like too much for anyone to handle. Peter was handling it all, and doing amazingly well.

He’d made sure that his classes worked well with Rene’s schedule, and Tony’s, and was enjoying them. He didn’t have to go to school, Tony had pointed out. He was rich – despite the money that he’d put up for the Foundation – and he didn’t really need to find a real job or anything, but Peter (and Stephen) had told Tony that his classes were a good way for him to recharge himself, and to take time for something other than Tony and Benjamin. Which would keep him mentally and physically healthy. Strange, Tony was relieved (although he’d never admit it if he didn’t need to) was still keeping tabs on Peter’s mental health, even when it seemed that the boy was perfectly well.

There was no sense in risking any setbacks, after all, Stephen had told Tony.

The Parker Foundation – which was now presumably officially named for Peter’s deceased twin sister, and the mother of Tony’s son – was also doing well in its infancy. The board of directors had been named, after Peter, Steve, Gus and Sam had reviewed countless candidates for the five positions, and they were starting to make some changes in the city, already. Little steps, first, Sam had said one day only a week or so before, as he watched Peter and Tony trying to coax Benjamin to take _his_ first steps, as well.

“Once we have a good foundation, we’ll be able to build on it, and it’ll be more efficient, and more capable of helping the most people than if we just start throwing money at the problem.”

Since it turned out that the retired navy man had a degree in communications and another in business management – which complemented Gus’s degree in economics – Tony had stepped back, returning his attentions to Stark Industries and allowing Steve and Peter to focus on the Foundation. When the board of directors was in place – and Sam and Gus both had voting positions on the board, even though they didn’t have the titles – Steve and Peter had stepped back, as well, leaving the doings to those who knew what needed to be done, and simply made themselves available if there were any dissentions that needed addressed.

So far, things were going great.

And despite how hectic it sounded, Peter’s schedule was flexible enough that the younger man was almost always home when Tony came home from his day. Rene would bring Benji to Tony’s office and give him a full report of the day, even if nothing too interesting had happened. It was in her nature, Tony knew, from being ex special forces, or whatever secret things she’d done in the military. He found it amusing, but never let it show, since she could kill him almost as easily as Natasha might. Besides, he loved hearing about Benji’s day, even if it had been dull. The baby was picking up words quickly, now, and luckily not all of them were curse words. He wasn’t putting them together into sentences, just yet, but he was getting closer every day, and at that he was pretty far ahead of those in his age range.

He’d come home and while Peter was spending time holding Benji and reconnecting after a whole morning and afternoon apart, he’d share whatever Rene had told him. Then they’d have dinner and spend some quiet time with their son before he was put down for the night. After that, Peter and Tony would take time to be together, usually in the living room where they’d settle on the couch, one holding the other, and both simply drawing strength, and love, and happiness from the other man. Then, invariably, petting that would begin on the couch would be moved into the bedroom. It was usually Tony who took control, because they both preferred it that way, but by the time they fell asleep in each other’s arms, both of them were satiated and spent.

In the morning, they’d wake, shower – sometimes _together_ – and start their day. Still in love, but focusing on Benjamin, once more. They’d discuss what they each had scheduled as Peter went to start breakfast and Tony went to get Benji ready., talking to the little guy and bragging to Peter every time a new word came out of his mouth.

Not that he was surprised, of course; Peter was a smart guy and he, himself, was a verified _genius_. Of course their son was going to be talking early. Stark was trying to be careful not to put pressure on the baby to succeed – the kid wasn’t even a year old yet, after all – but he was filled with hopes and dreams for Benji, and with Peter there to help him, there really didn’t seem to be anything that they couldn’t do – and there wasn’t anything that Benji couldn’t _be_.

Of course, _first_ the baby had to take his first steps.

“I didn’t teach him all of them,” Tony corrected, smirking. “Peter helped.”

The younger man affected a shocked look, eyes widening and suddenly appearing guileless and seeming to be even younger than he actually was. Tony secretly loved it when he did that, and hoped that it was something that Benji would learn to do, too.

“Not me,” the boy protested. “I’m sweet and innocent. I don’t even _know_ some of the words that Ben’s spouting. Clearly he learned it from his dad.”

The sorcerer wasn’t fooled for an instant. Peter was a nice guy and Strange was truly fond of him – one of the reasons that he was there, checking not only on Benjamin but also to keep an eye on Peter – but he knew the boy wasn’t innocent. Sweet, though, maybe.

“Uh huh.” He smiled, turning their attention back to the baby, who was leaning against Peter’s grip, focused on Tony. “Let him go, Peter. See if he falls on his face.”

That made both men frown, although Peter did as he was told – although he kept his hands out, ready to grab Benjamin should he stumble. Instead, the first step corrected the lean, and two more shaky ones propelled the little guy forward, rather than sideways.

“Come on, little man…” Tony crooned, hands reaching for the baby. “You can do it…”

A giggle, four more steps, and then Benjamin fell forward – right into Tony’s hands.

“He did it!” Peter cried, happily. “FRIDAY? Did you get it?”

_“Of course.”_

The video would be sent out to the Avengers, and to Rene, and to Pepper to be amazed. And, of course, Tony and Peter would watch it a million times, as well, over the next few days.

“Thatta _boy_ ,” Tony said, hugging the baby and tickling him. “Good job.”

Benjamin squealed in happiness, too, his eyes lit up with health and cheer.

_“Fuck!”_

Strange snorted.

It was probably just as well that they wouldn’t try to the pregnancy thing with Peter, again. Tony wouldn’t risk Peter’s health, again, and it would be much more difficult to hide things, the next time. If they wanted another baby, they were going to have to adopt, or something – and they were fine with that.

Benjamin was going to take up plenty of their time, after all – and that was how it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END!
> 
> Thanks for reading this :)


End file.
